Thursday, November 3, 2016

My Gram

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day Four

A loaf of bread was 10 cents.
A house was $6,000.
A car was $290.
Calvin Coolidge was the President of the United States.
Al Capone was in full-swing.

The year was 1925.  On July 5th of that year, my grandma was born. She lived through the Great Depression and married a few years afterwards, still just a teenager.  She waited as her husband went off to war and came home again.


She raised six wonderful children.


Those six children gave her 14 grandchildren and 23 great-grandchildren.



While she might be known for her flower arranging and gardening and bowling leagues and volunteer work, I know her for different reasons.  Sundays were for church and then dinners at Grammy and Grampy's.  We'd play frisbee or baseball in the backyard while Grampy worked the grill (and snuck puffs off of his pipe) and Grammy would be inside fixing potatoes and vegetables and slicing up Balky bread to complete the meal.  Often there was homemade pie or cake for dessert, but if not, you could always find some Butter Pecan ice cream in the freezer.  And it wasn't always just our family there-friends and neighbors would drop in for dinner or dessert or a Manhattan on the patio.  She loved jewelry and I always thought her clip on earrings were so funny and strange.  She and my grandpa came to many of my softball and basketball games in high school and college. I always loved looking up into the stands and seeing them there, cheering me on.


When I began having children, she was there for them, too.  It didn't take her too long after each of them was born for her to get her hands on them!





It's strange when you only know someone when they're older, like a grandparent.  I didn't know her when she was young, only as a grandma.  It's also strange to watch a grandparent get even older, and to watch their mind and body change.  Dementia has set in with my grandma.  It has been very gradual over the last few years, but it is unavoidable now.  All is not lost, though.  If you take the time to listen, you'll learn that she remembers. She may not remember what she had for lunch or if she took her pills after dinner, but she remembers the important things.  She can tell you all about her time spent in Iowa during the war.  She can tell you all about the births of all of her children.  She can sing you so many cute little songs and jingles from years ago.


She doesn't leave her house much these days-she likes the sense of security and routine she has there.  So we visit.  I take Nash and drop in for lunch every week or so, and she loves it and we love it.



I sit with her while she eats her lunch and we chat about the kids and the weather and she watches Nash feed her birds in the backyard.  Lately, we've been playing with Snapchat during our visits and she never quite understands the technology that can turn her into a moving, talking dog with a big pink tongue.



It's hard to watch this lady I love slowly age and grow more fragile, but I am thankful for the time I get to spend with her. I am thankful my children get to know her.  I am also thankful that when I stop over or call her, even when I know she's having a rough day, she puts that aside for me.  Her voice brightens when I call and she sits up a little straighter when I walk through her door.  She is always happy to see me and thankful that I am there.







No comments:

Post a Comment

Leave me a message-I need the entertainment!