Growing up in the mountains of North Georgia, I was fortunate to live near my grandparents. We called them Mamaw and Papaw. We lived so close that I rode my bicycle over to their house whenever possible. My grandfather was a horse trader, and he was usually gone during the day. My Mamaw was always home. It was obvious she like my visits.

I’d walk in the door asking “Mamaw, do you know any good stories?” Oh, she could really spin a tale. She’d reach over on a coffee table, pick up a small can of Dental Sweet Snuff, open it, and carefully dip a small wooden spoon down inside, fill it with snuff and place the snuff gently in her lower lip. Immediately, a look of contentment and satisfaction spread across her face, then she’d launch into one of her fascinating stories.

As Mamaw got up in her late eighties, she developed some problems with her heart. Her doctor referred her to a hospital in Atlanta. Her only daughter Midge accompanied her. After a thorough examination, the doctors determined that she needed surgery but because of her age did not advise it.

She was put in a private room for a couple of days, and it was no time at all before the nurses made their rounds. One nurse happened to walk into Mamaw’s room at the wrong time. Mamaw had just put in a dip of snuff, and spilled part of it on the bed. The nurse who was in her early twenties took one look at Mamaw and quickly admonished her for her tobacco use. “Mrs. Foster, you know tobacco is not good for your heart, don’t you?”

Mamaw was a bit embarrassed, but being an easygoing lady did not argue with authority. Midge overheard the conversation and quickly fell upon a plan. As soon as the nurse left the room, and Mamaw’s head was turned, Midge slipped the can of snuff out of sight and hid it in the closet. She wanted to do what was best for her mother.

In an hour or so, Mamaw noticed her snuff was missing. She couldn’t find it anywhere, so she said, “Midge, do you know what went with my snuff?” Midge kind of mumbled something hoping to deter any more questions. Mamaw always a perceptive woman caught on quickly. She then tried another approach.

“Midge, what have you done with my snuff?”

Midge replied, “Momma, the nurse plainly told you that snuff is not good for you. You know that you have heart trouble.”

Never easily ruffled, Mamaw became agitated. “Midge, I said to give me my snuff, and I mean it!

I am nearing ninety-years old, and I have used snuff since I was fourteen years old. I’m not about to stop now. I’ll use it as long as I live!”

About this time, the nurse walked into the room and put the blood pressure cuff on Mamaw’s arm. “We need to check your blood pressure, Mrs. Foster.”

As she pumped up the cuff, a worried look crossed her face. “Your blood pressure is much higher than when you first came in. Just lie still for a little while, and I’ll be back in to check it again.”

The nurse barely got out the door before Mamaw resumed her begging. She could see she was getting nowhere with Midge, so she tried a different approach. “Midge, please give me back my snuff, you know I’m getting old, and I may not be around much longer. At least, let me have a little comfort and enjoyment in my last days.”

At this last request, Mamaw looked so pitiful that Midge began to weaken. Midge walked over to the closet, got the snuff out of the suitcase and handed it to Mamaw.

Immediately, Mamaw took off the lid, filled the tiny spoon to the brim, and put it in her mouth. At once, she began to relax.

She barely had time to wipe her mouth and put the can away before the nurse entered the room again. After checking Mamaw’s blood pressure twice, the nurse with a puzzled look said, “That’s strange, your blood pressure is completely normal now.”

Mamaw smiled sweetly, not saying a word so as not to be caught a second time in one day. The next day, Mamaw was released and returned to her home. Since Papaw was no longer living at this time, I decided to spend the night with her so she wouldn’t be alone. In her bedroom, she had two beds turned at opposite ends to each other, each in a different corner. I slept in one of them so I could check on her during the night. I drifted off to sleep, but in the middle of the night I was jarred awake by a strange clanging noise.

I immediately raised up in the bed and looked to see if Mamaw was all right. As the moonlight felt on her shoulders, I could see she was propped up on two pillows in her bed. As I looked closer, I could see she was opening her can of Dental Sweet Snuff.

Over the years I’ve heard her say more than once, “I know snuff is against my health, and I know I’d be better off without it.”

As far as I know, she never made an attempt to stop, and I didn’t scold her for it. It seemed to me that was the only bad habit she had.

Mamaw lived to the ripe old age of ninety-one. Before she died she stayed a couple of years in the nursing home. I remember vividly one of our visits. She usually had a joke for me, so we laughed and talked as usual. It was not long, until it was time for me to leave. Before I left I asked her, “Mamaw, is there anything that you want or need?”

She wrinkled her brows and thought for a minute before saying, “Yes, I believe there is. I think I’m about out of snuff. I only have two cans left. Would you mind picking me up a few cans.” I promised her I would, but I couldn’t help smiling as I walked out of the nursing home.