I was privileged to visit my Uncle Huey, who is the youngest of six siblings, of my deceased mom.
We had an opportunity to talk about my grandmother, Big Momma. I loved Big Momma–I loved her name too. Now there was nothing “big” about her–in fact she was quite petite–but we still called her Big Momma. In fact, when our grandchildren were born, I really wanted to be known as Big Daddy but Karen, my wife, refused to be “Big Momma” so how can there be a Big Daddy without a Big Momma? As usual I get my way and now I am called “Pop.”
Anyway, my Big Momma was quite a woman. Great cook but much more. She was very smart. In fact, she was a college graduate–no small accomplishment for a woman born in the 1890s. She married my grandfather Jesse Bayne (to me Big Daddy of course) who was a fourth grade drop out. She taught him how to read and to write.
What I loved about Big Momma, among other things, is her humility. She existed, it seemed, to make others successful. She remained in the background–and made it her vocation to extol and honor Big Daddy. I like that about her. Mary Wordsworth was the same way. The sister of William Wordsworth, the famous British romanticist/poet, she could have basked in the limelight with him. She didn’t though. In fact, she often wrote poems for her moody brother and gave him all the credit. But she didn’t care though. She wanted to hurry him up so they could take walks together! She had her priorities straight!
The truth is Big Momma and Mary Wordsworth are the folks that keep this world moving in a sane fashion. I thank God for them and if you have a Big Momma in your life, give her a hug!