My Mother and Grandmothers

Remembering some of the "good ole days" when my grandparents were alive and my parents were relatively young. Here's a shot of my parents' 25th wedding anniversary taken at our home in Dublin (Maryland) in October of 1986. Paul and I were married three months later. It's hard to believe that he and I will be married 25 years this year, and that our son is contemplating getting married; wouldn't it be fun to have all our weddings 25 years apart?

Anyway, my mom's mom (who chose to be called Granny, which I always thought sounded super-old) was a card shark. You couldn't beat her at poker, rummy, or GoFish. And she could shuffle faster than anyone I knew. With 9 and 3/4 fingers!

Granny (Tola was her name) once owned a Baskin Robbin's ice cream store in Lawrence, KS, and we always got free quarts of our favorite. Not cones, quarts! Our favorite was Jamocha Almond Fudge. I remember it was a welcome relief during the Watergate trials on TV. "Anyone want ice cream?" I think I was so bored I would've jumped at the chance to eat sardines if it meant getting out of the house. Granny lost the top third of her right index finger when she cut it on a tin can lid while working in the ice cream shop. The cut got infected and the finger had to be amputated at the first knuckle. She always teased that it happened from shaking it off, shaking it one too many times to get her kids to listen. She warned me not to do that when I had kids. I didn't heed her advice and still have all ten digits.

This second photo is a picture from 1989, the last time I saw my dad's parents. They were residents in Sterling Presbyterian Manor in Kansas. Left to right: My mom, Wild Cowlick Me (holding five-month old Sarah), my sister Andrea with that great 80s hair, my sister Rachel, youngest sister Jill, Grandma and Grandpa). Ben was 13 months old and probably being chased by his daddy down the hall.

I remember the day my mom saved Grandma's life. She choked on birthday cake in the summer, so it could have been my fault if it was August. Not sure. But I remember my mom yelling, "Lyle! She's choking! Take her outside!" He lifted her up from her chair so fast it was like watching Superman in action. He carried her outside laid her down on the grass. Mama began CPR on her. Pretty soon Grandma "came to" and thanked my mom profusely. "Girl, I was so scared! That cake went down the wrong pipe!" (My mom hated to be called "Girl" but put up with it.) My mom also gave Grandma a "permanent" every six months which Grandma just loved. She had such beautiful white hair.

Grandma was "always a Christian" in my girlhood days. The grandmother who sang hymns and played baby dolls with me, the one who loved to paint nature scenes and make doll furniture. The grandmother who hosted 4th of July on the Lake. The one who was always telling Grandpa to give us something to take home. "Now, Chet, why don't you check your pockets and see if there aren't three nickels in there for the girls." And then Grandpa would say that as long as he had Kathryn, he'd always have at least one Nickel. (It was her maiden name.) But he couldn't guarantee three nickels, even though he always "somehow" always found three in his pocket for his granddaughters.

Granny, on the other hand, came to Christ later in life and, to be honest, I was intimidated by her sometimes. I didn't know her well enough to be able to tell when she was kidding around until she burst out laughing. Her sense of humor was beyond my comprehension sometimes, she was so bright. She did soften much later in life and by the time I was an adult ,we could talk about biblical things with ease and I "got" her jokes. Her 80th birthday was the highlight of her life when she got to meet--and be kissed by--Pat Robertson at a taping of the 700 Club. (I'll have to post pictures some time.)

I had a third set of grandparents (my dad's dad remarried after divorcing Granny). Charlie and Mayme. They lived on a 400 acre farm in Valley Falls, KS when I was growing up. I have a few pictures around somewhere, but haven't scanned them. Maybe soon. They were quiet folks with a lot of energy. Grandma Mayme could sew, cook, and keep house to perfection. I remember once taking my shoes off for a nap, not minding one whit that they were strewn willy-nilly in the vicinity of the couch. When I woke up, they were side by side on the floor on one end of the couch. Nothing was ever out of place. Grandpa knew his cows by name and had special affection for a few of them. I loved to watch him at complete ease around all things farm.

Wishing today, as I have many times, that I had known all my grandparents on a daily or at least weekly basis, to be able to write memories of the sort that are too numerous to recount. But alas, I have just a few "Grandma and Me" stories, and those are the ones I tell over and over like a good, but short, children's tale.