Cow Cock and Cabbage

My Grandmother told her preacher she wanted cow cock and cabbage for dinner. You are probably asking yourself why, so I'll explain in a nutshell. My grandmother is completely senile.

On Sunday morning, I got a call from my stepmother telling me that my beloved Grandfather had just suffered a stroke. My Grandmother's sister was driving by their house, going to church, and saw my Papa laying in the yard with my Ma-ma trying to help him up. She stopped and helped them out because poor Ma-ma doesn't have sense enough to call an ambulance. Long story short, the ambulance came, transported him to a helicopter landing area and the helicopter took Papa to the hospital. I threw some clothes into my weekend bag and headed out for the 4-hour drive on Thanksgiving weekend Sunday. I went straight to my Papa's house and let my Daddy go up to the hospital. I stayed with Ma-ma from Sunday until around 2 pm today.

One thing I love about my family is that they all have a great sense of humor and they are all funny. Obviously, sometimes when they aren't even trying. Southerners have odd relationships with their pastors and if someone in the household is sick, you can be assured that any man who has ever stood behind a pulpit within a 20-mile radius will be on the doorstep near 'bout faster than a fruitcake or a fried chicken. My Ma-ma's preacher made it to their house before the ambulance. He is a pretty young fellow, about 38, and I just don't think my Ma-ma gets it that he is the preacher. I really think she mistakes him for one of my cousins because she responds to him just like she does my cousin, which is normally with some crazy filthy talk since they always have tried to out-embarrass each other. So when the preacher was up there, in his Clemson shirt and jeans, he asked her what she was having for dinner since she has to be pushed to eat. She looked right at him and said, I want some cow cock and cabbage, do you have any of that? That poor guy looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders like, Well, whaddaya do? My cousin was in the room as well and I knew right then that Ma-ma just took the crown for Grand Champion Embarrasser. You just can't top telling a Baptist preacher you want some cow cock and cabbage. And she just didn't stop at once, she said that to him three times. I'm sure the prayers were peppering God that night. I know for a fact that Ma-ma was keeping God on his toes because she said her bedtime prayers about 12 times. Not because she wanted to say that many prayers, but in the 20 minutes that it took her to fall asleep, she forgot that many times. Like good old folks do, my grandparents sleep in the same room but in separate beds so I slept in Papa's bed to keep her company. So believe you me, I am good with God now.

All that extra praying did some good, though. On Tuesday evening, we as a family were resigned to Papa dying where he was because he had become unresponsive. By Wednesday at lunchtime, that tough old rascal had stood up from his bed and was talking to us on the phone. It's not perfectly clear but you can definitely understand him. Looks like he's on the mend. Hopefully Ma-ma won't offer him any cow cock and cabbage when he gets home.