A Memorial for my Grandmother – remembering and celebrating the life of Mary Elizabeth Eubanks

My name is Trina McNeill and I am one of the many grandchildren of Mary Elizabeth Eubanks.

My grandmother was a talented and creative woman—she could sing, paint, draw, and was a wizard in the kitchen. I was fortunate enough to inherit her creative gene, and she helped foster that creativity in my life through photography, art, and writing. I’m honored to use this experience to share her incredible life.

My grandma, Liz, was the strongest human being I’ve ever known. She had a big presence that you couldn’t help but notice. She was loving, funny, and had a green thumb like no other. She was also an incredible cook—she’s famous for her pinto beans, and it wasn’t Christmas or Thanksgiving without her cornbread dressing.

She was a wonderful wife, a caring mother, and—above all—the most loving and supportive grandmother. It isn’t often in our lives that we come across someone so special that that person stays with us forever. Grandma was that kind of person.

Liz grew up in the small town of Sledge, Mississippi, where she spent most of her time playing outdoors and climbing trees in the nearby woods. She was often seen wandering around clutching her doll, Peggy Sue, in her little arms. She loved that doll and often joked how upset she was when her older sister, Faye, stole her doll’s name; Faye named her’s Peggy Joyce.

It didn’t take a lot to make Liz happy—she was able to find joy in the little things. Her creativity and imagination was already flourishing as a young girl. She would often crawl underneath her porch and play in the sandy dirt, dragging a stick along the ground to draw streets and little buildings. She was able to create an entire little world underneath that porch.

Her creativity continued to blossom throughout her teen years. Liz had such a beautiful voice and spent a lot of her time singing. When she was sixteen years old, she competed in a singing competition on the Slim Rhodes Radio Show against a young Paul Anka. Liz placed third, but I think she could have easily stolen first.

I remember being shocked when I learned that she played basketball in school. I still have such difficulty picturing that, but it shows that she really was a jack of all trades. There really wasn’t anything she couldn’t do.

She spent a lot of her time in the cotton fields. She would often reminiscence about that time in her life with great pride—she knew just how hard she had worked, and hard work was foundational to her. The cotton field also reminded her of the day my Grandpa—Thomas Young Eubanks—proposed. She would tell me, with a big smile on her face, when she was eighteen years old, he drove to the cotton field and walked up to her shouting:

“I asked your Daddy if I could marry you, so let’s go get married”

And they were married at the courthouse in Marks, Mississippi that very day.

They weren’t very wealthy so Thomas happily sold one of his hogs to pay for Liz’s engagement ring. It wasn’t until they were in their thirties when she was able to buy Thomas a wedding band—paying it off a little each week. I remember her telling me how much he loved his ring and how excited he was to get it back from the jeweler when it needed to be resized. The thought of them together always made me so incredibly happy.

In her adult years, Liz became the grandmother I had the great privilege of knowing. She worked most of her adult life as a waitress, and she had a way of charming all of her customers, leaving everyone mesmerized. Everyone absolutely loved her. I spent a lot of my childhood years sitting in a booth of the various restaurants she worked at, and I would watch her run from one table to the next—with her bright blue eyes and sweet smile—as she joked with all the regulars. She was such an incredibly hard worker, and I think that’s a trait that she developed as a young girl that she carried with her her entire life. I wonder if she knew how much I watched and admired her. She was always that bright light that you couldn’t help but be dazzled by.

Even as an adult, her creativity was still flourishing. She often enjoyed painting, and some of her favorite scenes were of nature—flowers, cotton fields, rivers, and wildlife were some of her usual subjects. She was very musically inclined as well. As a small child, I remember climbing onto the couch next to her as she strummed the strings of a guitar. One of her favorite songs to play was Charlie Pride’s “Kaw-Liga,” and she would belt it out, too! She would beat her palm against the wood of the guitar, mimicking a drum.

Even as a young girl, I knew my grandmother was so cool. She was always singing around the house—especially when she was washing the dishes or doing various household chores. She was the only person I knew who could yodel and who could do it well too. Even though she lost her voice many years ago, I can still hear her singing as clear as day.

Liz had such a big personality for someone who didn’t really enjoy being in the spotlight. She was quiet when it was needed, but she wasn’t afraid to give you a piece of her mind. She could be hardheaded at times and, honestly, I think that’s a trait she continued to pass down to every single woman in the family—myself included.

She was playful and could be quite silly at times. She wasn’t above laughing at herself and in fact she found great joy in it at times.

She was incredibly clever and inventive. If she needed something, she would always try making do with what she had on-hand before she would go out and purchase anything new. When I was a child we didn’t need a lava lamp, because we had Grandma and her ingenuity—instead, she mixed water and oil in an empty two liter bottle, and my sisters and I would play with it for hours and hours. Years later, she would entertain her great grandchildren by blowing bubbles that she made using a spool of thread and dish liquid soap.

She really had a way of fostering joy in the simplest ways. For example, when our electricity went out when I was young, she made it fun instead of something to worry about. She lit candles, laid out a board game, and opened a bag of candied orange slices. We sat there together, playing and snacking in the candlelight.

Liz’s other creative outlets were crafts and sewing. In fact, she taught me as a young girl how to sew by hand—we would sit outside on the porch making little dresses for my dolls. I still sew by hand to this day. If she wanted a knick-knack to decorate her house with, she would make it herself. It’s because of her that I grew up with a passion for creativity and I thank her deeply for that.

Some of my fondest memories are with her, like spending hours going through family photos. She had thousands upon thousands of photos, spanning many decades, and we found such joy looking at them together. I think she enjoyed my curiosity into her life. Looking at these troves of photos is something that I continue to enjoy to this day, and I think she genuinely loved sharing stories from her life with me. And I loved it just as much.

As the years went on, Liz graduated from grandmotherhood and became a great-grandmother, leading a family full of strong, independent, stubborn, and creative men and women. As her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren grew into adults, anyone who knew Liz could see parts of her in them. Her razor-sharp wit, an intense loyalty, and selfless love are parts of her family that will continue to be passed down for generations to come.

My grandma was my best friend. She has made such a monumental impact on my life that I don’t think I could ever truly be without her. I will see her on sunny days and amongst the flowers of any garden. I will hear her singing every time I think of her favorite song. There will never be a day I don’t think of her because she has left imprints in every facet of my life—as I’m sure she has in yours.