My waking dream this morning was my father's mother, Nanny Hardy, telling me that she remembered my tricycle when I was little and asking if I remembered their house. I started telling her the first thing that popped into my mind, which was their carport and the folding aluminum lawn chairs with braided nylon. She stopped my there and walked away, satisfied enough and not caring what else I remembered. Even in dreams, it seems like she never liked me but that did leave me thinking about their last house and elements of it. I wish I had photos of it and the elements within it.
They had a back yard surrounded by chainlink fence. In one back corner of the yard, there was a long, fruit-bearing muscadine vine hanging from the trees. There was a set of horribly uncomfortable metal furniture - slider sofa and two chairs. There must have been a matching metal table but I don't recall one.
The downstairs finished base level (not quite underground) was where the laundry machines were along with the inner workings of the house that was always making odd mechanical sounds at night. It was mainly used for my grandfather's workshop, which was impressive to me even as a child. I rarely saw it because it was certainly not a child-friendly place but it was a big immaculately organized space with large machines & tools and perfectly ordered and separated small items like screws, bolts, etc.
He kept everything in the house clean and perfectly running just like his car, which was huge, maybe an oldsmobile but I'm not sure, that was formerly my father's car. Dad gave it to him when he got a newer car and my grandfather had the car running and shining like it was fresh out of a dealer's lot. The only real evidence of use was the deeply imbued smell of tobacco. Granddaddy Hardy smoked both cigars and, mostly, a pipe. He did not smoke cigarettes and Nanny Hardy never smoked at all.
They had vinyl slipcovers on all the furniture in their living room and a gray carpet that was actually equal amounts of multicolored fibers. There were TV trays with metal tops and I believe that was what they usually used at dinner. They watched TV a lot. I don't remember a single show they liked.
There was always a crochet project or two that my grandmother was working on. Usually, it was a large throw-blanket of some sort. That was her only hobby. She had no friends - it was just my grandfather and the TV to keep her company. She had "bad nerves" and was a bit agoraphobic. He was much more sociable and loved doing things at the Masonic lodge in town. He was always working on some sort of small construction project at the lodge. She complained about them getting a lot of work from him for free. Whether he was being taken advantage of or not, I think all that matters is that he really enjoyed it.
They lived there until he became disabled by a series of events following what was minor elective surgery. He got hepatitis from a blood transfusion during surgery and then one thing after another happened as a result of that. Without him there, my father sold the house and set her up in a very nice apartment in a retirement community near our house. She seemed to flourish there, with my father visiting her often. She lived to be 96 (young - both of the Hardy's came from families that lived into their 100's) when she passed away very quickly and painlessly from what was probably a stroke. It was the classic end of never waking up from a night's sleep.
