Tombstone Tuesday

Inscribed

Roy E. Bean

1943-1946

Located at

Carmel Church Cemetery

Gap Mills, Monroe Co., WV

I was so blessed to have my Grandma Bean in my young life.  She came to live with us when I was only 5. And she was with us still until her death on January 1, 1975.

Grandma enjoyed talking about her childhood and her family. She was so proud of my Dad for bringing her to live with us. She had early onset Alzheimer's. (They just called it 'hardening of the arteries' back then.) So I saw her go from a vibrant, hard working woman into a shell. But I still remember doing things with her when she first came to live with us.

We would go out on the lawn and pick dandelion greens. (We lived in the city, but we were the only house on our street that didn't struggle with dandelions. No weed killer there! We ate the weeds instead!) Grandma told me they were good for building up your blood. (And they really are!) She told me you could make a tea out of them. Turn them into a wilted salad. Or boil the greens and eat them with a little vinegar. I just loved them no matter what! (Later, once I was an adult, I would pick the blooms and make dandelion wine out of them. Talk about something good! Oh, you haven't had wine until you've had some dandelion wine!)

Grandma also taught me to cook. My Mom worked, and she simply didn't have the time to teach me a lot about cooking. I can remember Grandma teaching me to make her custard in a bain marie. I use the same method today. And you haven't eaten dessert until you've eaten old fashioned egg custard! Oh my heavens! Sprinkled with a little nutmeg and cinnamon on top, it was the best dessert ever! And Grandma taught me how to make her biscuits. Light, fluffy. Tender, and when you put a pat of butter on them, your mouth would begin to drool! Top them with a little sorghum molasses, the stronger the better, and you had a wonderful treat! (The trick was adding cream of tartar to the biscuit mix!)

And Grandma taught me about my Daddy as a little boy. She told me about one time when the family was getting ready for church, and she had him all clean and handsome in a little sailor suit for church. She turned and he was gone. Probably about 4 or 5 years of age. She and my Grandpa found him. He had gone wading in the stock pond! Grandma said she had to throw his clothes away because she couldn't get the mud out of them. I would giggle when she said she spanked his little behind. So funny when you're only five yourself!

And then she would get teary eyed, and tell me about an uncle I would never know. He was younger than the rest of Grandpa's children. He was the baby of the family. (Grandpa had outlived two wives when he married my Grandma. Between the three wives, he had 15 children. He saw four die before him.) Grandma was the mother of the youngest three children, and thus she bore the youngest child of all.

His name was Roy Edwin Bean. And I try very hard to keep his little memory alive. You see, he died when he was only 3 years of age.

Grandma always called him by both his first and middle name, Roy Edwin, when she spoke of him.

He was a fair-haired child. And Grandma's third son. My Dad was Grandma's eldest. So, Dad can still today recall events with little Roy Edwin.

Grandma used to say he got into mischief. And at three, he still had "accidents". Then I didn't understand, but you Moms out there know exactly what I'm talking about. Those little accidents you fight against while potty training your child. Some learn in a single day. And for some it may take 2 or even 3 years!

Little Roy Edwin Bean. he had had an accident here, and was wet. He looked so much like my Dad though! Wasn't he a cutie?

He was so full of life! And his big brother doted on him so!

Then one day, little Roy Edwin began to cry with a tummy ache. We've all had a child who did this, we give them a little something for it, if nothing but a baby aspirin, and they begin to feel better. But Roy Edwin didn't get to feeling better. Grandpa thought maybe the child was constipated, and they gave him some cod liver oil. Still he was no better. It was decided after a couple of days to take him to the doctor. From there he was rushed to the old hospital at Ronceverte, West Virginia. There he was diagnosed with a burst appendix. In 1946, there wasn't anything that could be done. They kept him as comfortable as they could for the time. Until he began to fade. The light was slowly extinguished from his little sparkling eyes. And one moment he was there, holding his Mommy and Daddy's hands. And the next he was with Jesus in Heaven.

Grandma never did get to talk about him without getting choked up and crying. And who could blame her for that? What mother could?

Little Roy Edwin was layed to rest in the Carmel Presbyterian Church cemetery, next to a brother and two sisters, who he never knew. Beside him are Samuel Maxwell "Max", whom my Dad received his middle name from (1919-1923). Dorothy Eloise (1923-1925), and Pauline (1902-1925). Eloise and Max's mother is buried there as well, Ada L. Burdette Bean (1883-1929).

Each year we decorate the graves of those young aunts and uncles of mine who didn't get to see how many would continue to love them dearly to this very day. I am sure the other three children were as deeply loved as little Roy Edwin was. But he will forever remain in a tender part of my heart that sheds a tear when I visit his site. That mourns for the man he might have become. The family he might have had. And the love we would surely have shared.

Rest easy little Roy Edwin. Be in peace with your Mommy and Daddy. One day I will meet you, where never more shall we shed a tear.

Sentimental Sunday

From 1946:

William [Bill] Beane, Edsel Beane, Walter [Buster] Beane with his arms around litle brother Roy Edwin Bean, Betty J. Beane [2-yrs] and John M. Bean, Sr.

John was the fathe of Bill, Edsel, Walter, and Roy Edwin. Betty Jane is his granddaughter from yet another son, John Jr.

Sentimental Sunday...My Uncle Roy

Little golden-haired angel, Roy Edwin Bean.

Born 22 Apr 1943 and died 02 Jul 1946.

Roy suffered a terrible, painful death from a ruptured appendix. He lingered for several days.

His parents were older. His father 80 at his death, and his mother 49. Neither recovered from this most terrible wound to the soul.

We remember little Roy at this time of year, and decorate his grave with toys and flowers.

My father is his older brother.

He is not forgotten.

Funeral Friday - Roy Edwin Bean

Little Roy was my uncle. The full brother, Maxwell, listed in the obituary, is my Dad, Walter Maxwell Beane.

Each year on Memorial Day we decorate his grave with toys and flowers.

My grandfather was 80 when his son died. He lived another 8 years before passing. It is said he never got over Roy's death.

My grandmother was 49 at his death, she lived another 29 years before passing, and never once could mention his name without tearing up.

Having died a full 13 years before my birth, I of course, never knew him. But I feel like I have tousled his golden curls and held him close often as I held my own sons close, so much did they resemble his photographs!

His big brother Maxwell still misses him.

Fearless Females - March 21

Thanks to the Accidental Genealogist for the Blogging Prompts for Fearless Females for March!



March 21 — Describe a tender moment one of your female ancestors shared with you or another family member.

Mary Elizabeth Faudree Bean

1897-1975

My paternal grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Faudree Bean, once shared a very sad, tender moment with me. It was a rare moment, as Grandma Bean didn’t speak a lot. She was a very quiet woman. And later she developed “hardening of the arteries”, which was then the layman’s term for Alzheimer’s, so moments of lucidity became few and, toward the end, far between.

In 1943 my grandparents had their last child. Little Roy Edwin Bean was a bright, blond haired, angelic baby.

Roy Edwin Bean [1943-1946]

He was the youngest of fifteen children born to my grandpa, John Monroe Bean. And he was the child of his old age. [Grandpa was 77 when little Roy Edwin was born!] Of course, Grandma was 46! [He was her third baby.]

Unfortunately, at the age of only 3 years and 2 months, Roy Edwin developed a tummy ache. Being good parents, they tried to comfort the little fellow. But after a while, he cried with his tummy ache. Thinking he was probably in need of a “physic” [mountain term for a laxative], they gave the boy cod liver oil.

When a terribly high fever developed, they took him to the doctor. The boy was in obvious distress and he was rushed to the hospital.

Unfortunately, he had a burst appendix. He lingered for a few days, in terrible pain. And then he died.

I have always been told that Grandpa mourned exceptionally hard for this sweet little boy, whom everyone adored. But, Grandma, who was always so quiet, spoke of that terrible loss that one time to me.

She mourned the loss. But even more, she blamed herself for not realizing that the boy was in distress sooner. Tears rolled over her wrinkled cheeks and dripped down onto her dress front as she talked about the event.

I can remember cuddling close to her and telling her that I loved her. [I was probably about 10 years old at the time.] I remember distinctly her hugging me and saying, “And you and you sister are what makes it all worthwhile.”

I can’t help but tear up as I recall that day.

Grandma has been gone since 1975. And sometimes, I feel as though I could reach out and touch her. That’s how close she feels.

Today is one of those days.