About 30 minutes after we all arrived home following what was the end to a very long week, our dogs began to bark. It was dark outside. We had just shed our funeral clothes, poured our first beverage, and began to discuss the remants of a very long day saying goodbye to Dan's mom when on our porch came Ms. Gina carrying this: a pumpkin pie!
Still warm from her kitchen, this pie was so much more than the standard loving gesture of food folks deliver at these awkward times. After celebrating my mother-in-law's life by posting "Permission to Eat Pumpkin Pie" during her final days on this earth, receiving this gift felt like a message from her in heaven. Maybe it was the perfect timing of its' arrival or maybe feeling the warm pan in my hands. I cried one more time today.
Sometimes, life has us do some pretty hard stuff, you know...like saying goodbye to someone you love. Going to the funeral today was, indeed, one of the hardest things I have ever done. You see, the family asked me to read at the service. Have you ever met this Hott family? Well, they are loud and cranky, and with 141 direct descendants I knew I was in for a tough crowd.
Oh, did I ever want to say "No way!" But just like some of the crazy things Pastor Andrew asked me to do, somehow the Holy Spirit had other plans for us today. Saying "no" sure would have been easier, right? Like, if I never stood up there then I never would have risked disappointing you guys or felt weird for saying something goofy.
But typical fool that I am, I said "yes" and read at the funeral today. Here is my unedited presentation:
(Today, I am here to
share with you a post from my online blog called “Excuse me, can I tell you
something?”. Both Uncle Phil and Aunt
Pam asked me to read for Grandma Violet’s service today, an indescribable privilege
for me. After Mrs. Hott passed on
Saturday morning, I was hanging out down at the house with many siblings when
their request that I share “P to Eat PP” both surprised and, honestly, scared
the bejebbies out of me. You see, I
began blogging about faith and family in 2008 as, now - don’t you laugh,…oh, ok,
you can laugh – the blogging “Hott Mama!”
Looking around this room, I can see many
more “hott mamas”. Saturday, Phil called
me, instead, the family poet laureate
– “ah” I think I like that better, quite a compliment. Once, Mrs. Hott called me Sonie,…an even
better compliment. While Mrs. Hott was
in the hospital last, I posted this story you’re about to hear. Within an hour, it was trending on
facebook. In fact now, if you google
pumpkin pie, it comes up third after a Better Crocker recipe. Hahahah….imagine that! So, someone out there is reading it. Honestly, I’m not sure if I can today. In fact, I tried to get Caity to do this for
me but she said “no;” so…. Here I am. You’re
stuck with me, uhhh your blogging Hott Mama.
So, please bear with me.)
Before I start, I want
to show you something. You see, when I
was little, I always heard my mom comment on the participation of my brother’s
girlfriends/wives in kitchen work. Woe
to the woman who did not offer to assist my mom with supper dishes!
Being used to lending a
hand, I thought it was customary to assist as well. So, imagine my surprise during my early visits
in 1995 to the Hott Farm when supper was underway, and dishes began. You see, with
a small crowd of… oh…90 or so on any given Sunday back then, supper dishes
began as soon as the first round at the table is cleared with just say 82
mouths waiting to be fed. And, each mouth had to sit at the table too. There would be none of that eating a plate of
food in front of the tv or on the couch.
So, I jumped up and offered to wash!
I can only imagine the
thoughts of the several other daughters-in-law there! Today, it’s HER turn! Hah! LOL!
I stood there for three hours
as the endless pile of dirty plates never
disappeared. I know for certain I saw
the same cracked plastic yellow plate
with flowers in the middle come through my soapy water 4 or 5 times! Check this out…Here it is!
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| Grandma Violet's Dishes |
This is a simple, plain ‘ole
dinner plate from Mrs. Hott’s kitchen. I
borrowed it from among the stack of many chipped and worn plates used to serve
a flood of fabulous country food…even today. Today, this yellow plate from the 1950’s “genuine
melamine, made in the USA” that once held Mrs. Hott’s famous Sunday dinner, now holds a special corner of my
heart. I’ll tell you why. Here… pass it around.
There was another time
Dan and I happened to be early for
Sunday supper (this never happened often…in fact, Ronnie would always look for
snow when we showed up, even in July)
So, observing the Sunday supper preparations,
I offered to help out in the kitchen.
Asking what I can do, Grandma
Violet assigned me to the task of peeling potatoes.
Oh….easy smeazzzzy! Right? I can do that! And, surely it won’t take forever like washing
dishes around here! And, once I get these potatoes peeled, I can
play outside with Caity while they cook on the stove! So….
“Sure! I can peel potatoes!” Immediately, Grandma Violet vanishes to the
basement of her farm house (the basement - a place, by the way, to this day
after 20 years of visiting I.have.never.seen! and do not care to venture full
of critters and creachers– too spooky – Thanks for the scare
Uncle Dump!) After hearing all the
ruckous below, Mrs. Hott emerges from the rickety old steps carrying
something. With ease, Grandma Violet
then crosses the few feet to the sink to deliver to me
A 5 gallon bucket.
Of potatoes! FULL!
Oh?...ok! Wondering how this little lady managed to lug
this 5 gallon bucket of potatoes from the depths below, I reached down to lift
them and nearly pulled my arms out of my elbows.
Looking up and thinking
this won’t take so long, I asked Mrs. Hott, “So,…. Uh…How many of these do you
want me to peel?”
“Well, ALL of
them.” Then, thinking what a dummy I was, she turned
around to stir gravy.
Of course.
No,… Wait? She was
serious? “All of them?”.
Just like the dishes,
three hours later and four hand blisters
later, I was still peeling
potatoes. That was the last time I offered
to peel potatoes at the Hott house! How
do they do this?
So, proceeding to Phil
and Pam’s request for me to read…. Here is my post called
PUMPKIN PIE from “Excuse Me Can I Tell You Something?”
With Thanksgiving
quickly approaching and the leaves softly landing, this time of year brings to
mind one of my many favorite treats: pumpkin pie! In fact, I have
already enjoyed a homemade delicious slice of the orange fruit (or is it a
veggie?) while visiting my cousin Tammy. As I gaze out my kitchen window
at the W. Va. fall foliage, crystal blue sky, and puffy clouds passing,
Thanksgiving 2001 was my induction into the Hott's "permission to
eat pumpkin pie"!
Well, I don't know about
where you grew up; but where I come from we
traditionally had a pumpkin pie or two to celebrate the season with family.
It was in 1995 when I made my first holiday venture to the Hott Family
Thanksgiving Traditional Dinner.
Surely there will be plenty of turkey and the favorites;... wonder if
there will be a pumpkin pie?!
So, how many pumpkin
pies do you think there may have been? One..... maybe two pumpkin pies?
Nope.
Three pumpkin pies?
No.
You're wrong!
Not 1. Not 2, or
even 3! -- 28! TWENTY-EIGHT!!!
Mrs. Hott had personally
baked,... from scratch, with REAL pumpkins
-- 28 pumpkin pies!
And I am sooo not
kidding you! Following a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner, pumpkin pies
emerge from everywhere! Apparently, desserts always are hidden out in the
"milk shed" until supper is over. Mrs. Hott lovingly manages her
kitchen table much like that of a New York City traffic cop; allowing for
nearly 90 family members to each sit for a meal (not only on Thanksgiving but
for each and every Sunday afternoon). Once your plate is empty, you have
to get up in order for someone waiting to eat to have a place to sit down.
Her farm house home is so crowded with relatives slowly inching their
way, shoulder to shoulder, to the table. Woo… Talk about a close family!
To this day, I am not
sure from where all the food came! Like a flood, endless plates of fresh
garden vegetables, mountains of mashed potatoes, home-cooked casseroles -- all
from seemingly bottomless pots and pans! It really is kinda magical, you
know. Or, a bit like Jesus feeding the masses with just a fish and five
loaves of bread!
Finally when she
authorized permission to begin dessert, there was formed a caravan of
grandchildren carrying inside 28 pies of pumpkin among a plethora of other
delicious delectable desserts!
So, as Thanksgiving
quickly approaches this year I stumble across my favorite picture of Mrs. Violet
Hott, the matriarch of the family. A
certain photo I LOVE is from Thanksgiving 2001! With rosy cheeks, twinkling
eyes, snowy white soft hair… hers is a face to rival Mrs. Claus! After six years of sitting at her table for
the same holiday, it is this year
that she allowed me to have pie early. In fact, after
a few brothers-in-law yelled at me and tried to get me in trouble with Mrs.
Hott when I found a pie on the counter, with a twinkle in her eye she came to
my defense! I got pie first that year.
And, well...so did Heath
(another Hott nephew)! Grandma Violet hid an entire pie just.for.him! (Really, she did! I saw him eat it whole
and am still amazed!)
You know,… I do like to
write. If God ever let me recreate
that verse in Matthew 25:35, it would go something like this: “You are never a stranger at the Hott Farm.
If you're hungry, Grandma Violet gives you food; if you are thirsty,
she gives you a sweet tea; and if you're a stranger, well....
it's only for a second. And, if you're lucky, you just might get permission
to eat pumpkin pie early!”
Today, Grandma Violet is now 93. She is surrounded here by her large loving Hott family. As we
remember our sweet angel, the strong, hard-working woman whose 141 descendants
span the hills of West Virginia to the shores of the Potomac, the mother of
my sweet-loving Dan, number 10 child among her 13, the grandmother to many,
including her last granddaughter - my very own Violet, I am thankful to God,
who waits for her at His
Thanksgiving table with her very own fresh
slice of heaven, and a plate flooding
with His unending love and amazing grace, exactly
like my early slice of pumpkin pie.
Feeling a little lost in her
crowded and noisy house, I found favor in my mother-in-law that day, when I
thought she never noticed me. Funny how in something like just a piece
of pie there was an expression of her grace, not unlike Your grace, God, in
the smallest smile or twinkle in her eyes, waiting just for me, among the
many, many Hotts.
I also saw she had countless expressions of her
grace waiting for each of you. As this plate is nothing fancy, just an old
plastic yellow plate among the pile with stains and chips, circulates empty here today, it was once flooding
with countless meals. From corn cakes
or sausage gravy, to dumplings and ham, fresh peas from the garden to even nasty
kale Davey tricked me into eating, maybe it is Saturday night burgers fried
in the iron skillet or salty Sunday country ham, or fresh lettuce with egg
and hot grease, back bones and sourkraut, pumpkin or corn meal mush (whatever
that is!)… or… perhaps even Stacey’s own personal boiled potatoes set aside just for her from the mountain of
mashed, Mrs. Hott’s plate from the farm held something special for each of us
here.
Thank you all, Hott Family, for
showing me a little slice of heaven through the grace of your precious mother,
Violet Mariam Smoot Hott. A woman able
to see through the crowded room into the heart of a stranger with just a seat
at her kitchen table and small piece of pie.
If ever you feel lost in this crazy world, like the crowds are many
and your plate is empty, I want you remember Violet Hott, and know by the
miracle that was, no is she, there
is always her grace, and the grace of Jesus waiting to fill your empty plate.
Even though it will be hard to
imagine this Thanksgiving, or any dinner, with our Grandma Violet…and all the
pumpkin pies,…as of today, Her chains
here are gone. She’s been set free. Her God and Savior, her ransomed be.
And like a flood, His mercy reigns, with unending love….She sits now at Your table, serving Your amazing grace.
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I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Genesis 22:17
Amazing Grace...for Grandma Violet
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