Remembering

As far back as I can remember, my grandma and I spent time together. Whether they lived in the house in the valley, the apartment, or the house next door to us, Grandma always had everything just so, with a place for everything and everything neat and tidy in it's place. There was once a tshirt that was popular in those silly gift catalogs that showed a woman with a vacuum cleaner, vacuuming the leaves off the trees in the fall. I laughed every time I saw it because it was my grandma to a tee.

When I was little, I would often spend the night at Grandmd and Grandpa's. At bath time Gramma would pull out a small bottle with blue liquid. Somehow this was both bubble bath and shampoo. I have no idea what it was, but it was part of our bathtime ritual. Once I was in the bubble bath we would sing “Little Sir Echo” together. After washing my hair and rinsing it in running water from the tap of the bathtub, I would get out and Grandma would wrap me in two towel; one for my hair, the other for my body. How I loved those big, soft, fluffy burnt orange towels with the butterfly emblems!

Grandma loved music and performing, and she passed that love onto me. I loved to see the costumes she wore when she sang with the Sweet Adeline’s, and she loved to recount the stories of her time in the group. It was not uncommon to find the two of us around the piano, playing and singing for hours. It is because of her that I know songs like “Mairzy Doats” and all of the words to "You Are My Sunshine". I learned how to play the piano, though I never loved it the way Grandma did, and to read music. I can remember being at their house and paging through her books, looking for a song that was my skill level. I always found things to play, and Grandma never seemed to mind that I played such simple songs or that I often only played the right hand part. Of course, she had to harmonize anytime we sang anything, including “Happy Birthday.” I can’t hear that song without hearing her soprano voice harmonizing with the rest of ours.

Grandma loved food and loved to feed other people. It was impossible to go hungry when you were with my grandma. Once they moved in next door I would go to Grandma and Grandpa's after school. Grandma would call out “Hi Sweetie!” as she always did, and immediately ask me two things – did I have homework, and would I like something to eat? Now, the thing with my grandma is that even if you didn’t want something to eat, you ended up eating anyway. The line of questioning usually went like this:

Grandma: Do you want something to eat?
Me: No thanks, Grandma.
Grandma: Are you sure? It’s no trouble.
Me: No, it’s ok.
Grandma: You really should eat something.
Me: No, really, I’m not hungry.
Grandma: Sure you are! How about some toast? Or an English muffin?

The next thing I knew, I’d be stuffing my face with Oroweat toast or a peanut butter and honey sandwich, sipping on a Pepsi using a licorice straw. How did the woman do it?? I have no idea, but she always won. I blame her for my carb addiction!

After Grandma and Grandpa moved in next door to us, I spent even more time with them, and after Grandpa died my Grandma and I became even closer. I loved being able to look out the sliding glass door at home to see if there was a light on at Grandma’s. If there was, I knew she was home and still up (although who am I kidding, of course she was up - I got my late night hours from her!). I would go down just to visit and end up staying so long that Mom or Dad would have to call to tell me to come home. Grandma and I would talk for hours. Sometimes she would teach me new things, like how to knit or the steps to various styles of ballroom dances. I’ll never forget the two of us waltzing around her house, sliding more than anything because we were both in socks on a hardwood floor.

As much as we had in common, we could also be like oil and water. A tomboy as a girl and athletic her whole life, somehow my grandma grew into a woman who loved floral prints and froofy stuff. I hated that she always wanted me to wear dresses and keep my hair down, and she was mortified when she found out that I’d be wearing tennis shoes for my wedding. Everyone else who knew me well said, “that sounds like you!” but Grandma never gave up trying to make me more feminine.

Even so, she never stopped loving me or supporting me. She came to almost as many of my softball games as my parents, even traveling to California, Montana and Illinois for tournaments. She was there for my high school, college, and graduate school graduations, and the huge smile on her face showed me just how proud she was of me at those times. I’ll never forget how supportive she was when I was down about not being able to find a job, or how excited she was when I finally did find a job that I loved. She would always ask about my students and was genuinely interested in how school was going. She loved to hear about the things I loved, and that made me feel special.

Since she died, I’ve been thinking that you can’t put the essence of a person on paper, but I think that might be it. My grandma knew how to make everyone feel special and loved. She was herself a very special person, and she will be greatly missed by all those who knew and loved her.