Gram Callie

Gram Callie 

School teacher from Mississippi. The south. Education system in her day meant she could practically teach anything for a school ager to a young man or woman. Grandma Callie taught till she married and set out to raise Big Daddy in Aberdeen. 


It was a big job maintaining Grandma Callie’s 
long black, 
silky hair. 
Almost to her waist, 

I used to comb, 
brush and scrape her scalp. 
That hard caked-on dandruff left noticeable 
signature flakes on any top that she wore. 
Light or dark colors didn’t matter. 


She smelled different, 
Kind of like a wilting rose. 
Sweet but a little tainted. 


Hers was the softest light skin, 
almost too soft, you know. 
Her skin so soft but dry as ash. 

She could’ve passed for white. 

Big Daddy certainly could. 


Big bosomed, 
big boned woman, 
but not too fat. 


Grandma Callie was stern and direct. 
Always needing somebody to wait on her 
bath time, 
changing her, 
lotioning her down upon request. 
“Hand me my drawers from the dresser drawer, Sweetie.” 


Soft silky slips, 
sleeping gowns, 
huge bras, 
panties of white, ivory and pale pink, 
she was a very feminine woman.

Jeri Brown, 2016