IMG_1287Matt’s sweet, sweet grandmother, “Anmama”, passed away early Saturday morning.  A definite matriarch of the family, Anmama loved her tribe something fierce, and a void has been left in the lives of all who knew her.

Anmama and Carson

Really, it bears repeating: Anmama (known in some other circles as Faye Allison) loved. her. people.  Like, nothing in the world made her happier than when the entire family was sitting together in her living room- chatting, snoozing in the recliner, and stealthily ransacking her bowls filled with butterscotch candies.  (Guilty.  Of the butterscotch-ransacking.)

Actually, I take that back.  Nothing made her happier than a house full of WELL-FED family.  We’re talking, beyond the point of full.  (Ideally full of something other than butterscotches.)  Feeding others was her love language.  In some of her final words to Matt last week, Anmama pleaded with Matt to get himself some chicken salad.  This was so typical that we just had to laugh. She knew how much I love and crave Bullock’s brunswick stew and somehow always had some on hand when I came over.  If I didn’t eat seconds, I was hurting her heart… so, naturally, I always obliged.  Happily.

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Anmama was the beloved wife to Pop (aka Fred), and I have loved watching the sweetness of their marriage over the years.  They were united on so many fronts: their love of Jesus… their love of family… the Duke Blue Devils.  Anmama worked for Duke for many years and was a fiercely loyal Blue Devil.  Duke games provoked just too much anxiety to handle- over and over again, she’d have to step out of the room to remove herself from the stress.  Obviously, that Duke love runs deep.

There is so much that will be missed about Anmama.  I’ll miss the important life skills she passed on to me.  Skills like how to properly tie the bow on the back of a little girl dress so that it doesn’t get all sideways and wonky.  I’ll miss how she never (ever!) allowed us to exit her house without something in hand, be it a can of corn, a cantaloupe, or half a bushel of sweet potatoes.  (All of those scenarios happened.  Probably on multiple occasions.)  I’ll miss her smile and her spunk and the love she exuded to everyone around her.

From its very conception, Anmama was always one of the biggest fans of my blog.  I can’t tell you how many calls I received from her that went something like this (insert a strong North Carolinian southern drawl as you read):

“Catherine?  Hey, it’s Anmama.  Look.  I’ve been checking your blog and you haven’t posted anything recently, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.  You know, I get worried about y’all…”

So, Anmama, this one’s for you.  A new blog post, just for you.  Because we’re gonna be okay.  We’re all going to miss you like crazy, but we’re going to be okay.

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1 Comment on dear Anmama, we’re gonna be okay.

  1. Catherine, such a beautiful post about Anmama! So many of her traits reminded me of my grandmother, Miss Ida. Even though she passed 24 years ago, I still think of her often. She would love seeing Blair (her great-grandson) and his four Great-great grands. My condolences to all of you. And yes, you will be okay.

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