“MAFFY” advises his Grandma…

Matthew, our second son, was about 4 years old when this picture was taken. He and my mother are obviously engrossed in fixing something. This was a usual thing for them. They were great pals and loved spending time together, especially if it entailed a “mind boggler” that needed to be solved.

A few years later, in 1976, we moved to a different home and our property had a small stream on it. Matt took up the sport of fishing and he couldn’t wait for Grandma to come for a visit so that she could share in his new hobby.

When the time came for that visit we fixed up a nice room in the basement so that mother could have her privacy. It was very cozy and if she wanted to read or take a nap she would just go down to her room. It was also where she would smoke. She knew that neither Dick nor I were smokers and we wouldn’t be too pleased with having the smell in the main house.

She stayed for two weeks and almost every day she and “Maffy” would take off for the stream. They would often take a lunch with them as well as their fishing rods and his little creel box complete with hooks and worms and a special place for Grandma’s cigarettes. I would love to have been privy to their talks. I’m sure they solved many of the problems of his little world, but I had no idea that they were discussing mother’s world, too.

One morning I glanced into Matt’s creel box just before they were to take off for the stream and I realized that mother’s cigarettes were missing. When I asked about it, Matt said, “Oh, didn‘t you know? Grandma doesn’t smoke any more.”

I was absolutely amazed and when I asked mother about it she told me that Matt had tactfully and persistently kept after her until she had no excuses left. She was to live for 20 more years and near the end of her life I asked her if she’d ever smoked again. She seemed shocked at my question. “Of course not,” she said, “I made a promise to Maffy, didn’t I?”