Her name was Martha Jane, but we called her Mango. With a name like Mango, you know she had to be special. She was. She was one of a kind. Irreplaceable. There was just something about her that made her the most wonderful grandmother. Mango was graceful and ladylike. She was delicate and feminine. She never spoke poorly of anyone and rarely engaged in the family gossip. She was always thinking of everyone else around her and what she could do to help others. She was selfless. My granddaddy would call her “daisy.” She loved orchids and classical music. I remember sitting in the back of her Buick, watching as she tapped the steering wheel and hummed along to the tune. As a matter of fact, I have so many memories of my Mango. I don’t have many pictures, but the times we spent together are ingrained. I suppose that’s one of the benefits of living in a time when there weren’t phones as a distraction. That’s also one of the benefits of having a grandmother that was so involved. She was there. She took the time. And I remember.
I remember the time she asked me to “accompany” her to The Nutcracker Ballet. Being a small-town farm girl I had no idea what she was talking about. Plus, I was only in early elementary school and hadn’t been exposed to much outside of a holstein cow. But yeah, sure. I’ll try it out. Mango said we had to dress up. She took me to Burdines and bought me a cranberry red velvet dress with lace trim. (I’m pretty sure this is where my love of clothes started.) Imagine my astonishment arriving in downtown Miami and seeing buildings that tickled the sky. Imagine my confusion as a man in a suit took the keys and drove the Buick away (valet). I remember sitting so close to the stage I felt like I could touch the dancers. I remember Mango saying over and over how well I sat through the whole performance. I remember thinking it was the best day because Mango said I acted like such a lady. I still have an affinity for The Nutcracker because it was something I shared with Mango. It was “our thing.”
I remember she used to keep crystal figurines on display in the conversation room at the Miami Lakes house. I think they were Waterford, which makes this story even worse. I remember I decided to play with them one day and ended up breaking one. I was so upset because I had never seen Mango in any mood other than lovely. I told her about the damage and she said, “Welp, looks like we need to get some glue!” She never lost her cool. I take that back. She lost her cool with me ONE time. I remember I was at the Miami Lakes house and we were supposed to go somewhere. I don’t remember where, but we were dressed and I was supposed to be getting in the Buick. Instead, I went down by the water and started playing. Suddenly, Mango came out from the front of the house and screamed, “Ashley! Get the HELL in the CAR!” Later that evening, she hugged and kissed me and apologized for losing her temper. I remember thinking, You had every right to get angry! I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to do! She always apologized, even when it wasn’t warranted.
I remember staying long weekends in Miami Lakes with her. I was never, ever allowed to get into bed with my parents at night. Never. I often found myself crawling into bed with Mango and granddaddy when I stayed with them. The lights and sounds on their street at night often scared me and Mango never turned me away.
I remember one day while staying with her in the summer, she asked me out of the blue if I wanted to go to the Miami Zoo. I’ll never forget the way I felt when she asked me. A special trip to the zoo. Just for me. I remember she let me get a souvenir – it was one of those cheap wax animals you get from a machine. Then she said, “If you’re going to get something for yourself you need to get something for your brother and sister, too.” We brought the animals home and she told me to wrap them for my younger siblings. Mango always wanted to make sure everyone felt included and special in some way. Thinking of others was important.
I remember she would take be back to school shopping every single year and I would come home with bags from Burdines and Dillards. She helped me pick out “ladylike outfits.” Once when I was coming into my teenage years she took me shopping and I picked out an orange and yellow plaid dress with spaghetti straps. Mango INSISTED that I buy the matching yellow cardigan to cover my shoulders. I remember that I didn’t want the cardigan because I wanted to show some skin. We went to dinner that night and I wore the dress without the cardigan, although I had brought it. I remember all through dinner Mango kept asking, “Aren’t you cold? Don’t you want to put on your cardigan?” It’s funny how things have changed because I love a good cardigan now and often keep most of my skin covered. As I grew into an adult, Mango would often compliment my clothing. I was such a jerk when I was a teenager and I’m glad that Mango was around long enough to see that my style (and my attitude) got better with age.
I remember in high school we went to a really nice restaurant that was a la carte. My aunt, uncle and cousins were there too. Mango started ordering dirty martini’s. At one point as we were being served she looked over and with a slur in her words she muttered, “That’s a hell of a lot of broccoli. Move that shit over.” Imagine my astonishment when I heard Mango cuss. The night continued with two more dirty martinis, a lot of laughing and Mango being carried out of Don Shula’s by two of my cousins. I’m pretty sure she peed herself from laughing so hard. “You’re a damn drunk, Daisy!” I remember my granddaddy saying. Mango was no drunk. She had an empty stomach and needed to cut loose. The following morning we each received a call from Mango, apologizing for her “inappropriate behavior.” “Now put your sister on the phone so I can apologize to her,” she said. I’ll never forget it. It was such a fun night full of laughter and family time and Mango felt the need to apologize for over drinking.
I could go on about the memories made with Mango. I could write a book about them. She was such an integral part of my life and she was always such a joy to be around. She was an angel of a grandmother. It’s an understatement to say that I was blessed to have a Mango. Now that she’s gone, I’ll continue to hold onto the memories that I have with her and only hope to become half the lady and grandmother that she was.
~Ashley