Grandma A was the grand dame of grandmothers..... she was perfection. The right combination of nurturing and hard-nosed realism.
She amazed me.
One of her talents was her ability to guess the perfect gift for each and every grandchild, even ones that lived an extreme distance from her. It never failed- whether Christmas day, your birthday or Easter you would open your present and look at it and think.... "How? How did she know that was what I wanted... I didn't tell anyone that was what I wanted." She just had a psychic connection in the inner workings of a young child's head. There was one year she gave us all sheets..... mine were Dumbo. I loved those sheets which is probably why many, many years later I still have the top sheet. The sheets became known as "Grandma A sheets" and whenever the choice was given as to what would grace the bed... that was mine. It was like sleeping in a great big Grandma hug.
She also had great taste in outfits. Each spring brought with it a "Easter" outfit would arrive via the postman just in time for the Winter fair. The room would hum with anticipation while my mother unwrapped the box. My siblings and I crowding around her, clambering over each other trying to get the first peek at what we would be proudly wearing to the fair. Getting new clothes, store bought clothes, was not something that happened often in our house when I was young. In fact there seemed to be a cycle- start of summer wardrobe shopping, back to school shopping, Christmas and the prized Easter outfit. So when you received clothes, you were excited to have something new.
There was one particular outfit that I remember fondly. It was a blue and white dress. It had a eyelet lace feel to it. Why does this particular outfit stick out more than the rest? Because it was a..... DRESS! I did not wear dresses, but this one I loved. It had capped sleeves with an elastic neckline which allowed it to be worn off the shoulder or scoop necked.
I loved that dress. I begged and pleaded with my mother to let me wear it to the fair. She said no! My parents are firm believers in dressing for function vs fashion. A dress of lightweight material and minimal arm coverage, just would not have cut the mustard in their book; especially at a time of year when the weather lulls you into thinking winter is over, only to turn around and lambaste the unsuspecting with a blizzard and -40 degree Celsius windchill. I could not be deterred. Everyday I asked. Every day I was turned down. Eventually my mother conceded as long as I promised to wear leotards and ski pants under the dress.
UGGGGGHHH!
Leotards, I was sure, were invented by a masochist; staticky, clingy and susceptible to the effects of gravity; the crotch forever meandering down to your knees and needing hiking-up. I also hated wearing bulky constricting ski pants. But I did both so I could wear "the dress".
How did Grandma A know that I would love this particular dress so much?????? It will forever remain a mystery.
Making others happy by finding what they wanted was something that provided my Grandmother with joy. She often would go without if it meant she could give someone something to cherish. That was her..... generous to a fault.
As I mentioned Grandmother A lived far away so I did not get to see her very often. This was pre Skype and long distance plans, so our main form of contact was letters. As soon as I could print I started writing to her. She was a good sport about it.... see all my early letters were addressed to Grandma Add. I thought that was how her first name was spelled. Not once did she correct me. It was my older sister who pointed out my faux pas. Last year I realized that not only did I have her first name wrong was also spelled her last name wrong for all her life..... seriously where did that extra "e" come from? I still have a large bundle of letters from my Grandma. The letters are stashed all around the house and whenever I come across one I smile. How I miss opening the mailbox to find her familiar script staring back at me.
Given the physical distance between us, I was grateful when an opportunity arose that allowed me live with my Grandma for two summers during my late teen years. What I remember about that time was the stories. My Grandmother was a quintessential story teller. One story would lead to the next and before you know it hours had passed... I sat enthralled. Eventually Grandma would comment that we were wasting the day away and she would get up from the table to do something productive. I would follow, but inside I was anxiously waiting for the next round of story time.
My Grandma's stories are what I miss the most. Even though I made her tell them to me over and over, time has made the details fuzzy and I question if I am remembering them correctly. I would love, love, love to have a moment to sit with her to hear them one more time. This time I will pay attention. This time I would write them down. I would not take for granted the time we had together.
How I marvelled at the life she led, her bravery and the beauty of her soul. She experienced hard times but had the type of spirit that didn't dwell on what didn't go right.... she cherished her blessings as they came and chose to focus on what went right vs wrong.
Grandma A was a young widow. My Grandfather was killed in a train accident when she was pregnant with her third child. There she was, two little toddlers, one on the way and now a widow and homeless; as my grandparents were renting a farm house and without help she could not run the farm and pay the rent. Grandma moved into a small one room house in town with the children. One of her older sisters was also widowed with children around the same time. Together they formed an alliance and helped each other through the difficult days that were a head.
Grandma often talked about the toothaches she had when she was pregnant with Uncle W. She could do nothing about it while pregnant. She resolved that once she had the baby, she would have any tooth that dared to ache yanked out. Sure enough a day or two after giving birth her teeth started hurting. She went to the dentist and had them pulled. She did not mention that she had just given birth. She lost so much blood between the birth and the tooth pulling that she passed out cold for at least two days. Luckily her sister had come to visit her and discovered the children crying in the living room. She looked after them until my Grandma woke up. That was Grandma A.... stubborn. She was going to get rid of the pain no matter what the cost!
On a lark Grandma A and her widowed sister went to a tea leaf reader... looking for some mystical hope to help them cope with the daily struggles they faced. The reader told one sister she would meet and marry someone with the initial "R" and Grandma A that she would marry and move to a land of fruit and sea air. They laughed it off..... "I don't know anyone with a R in his name!"..... "Yes, I will move to the ocean.... bah ha, ha." Well the predictions for both came true within the year.
Grandma A remarried and moved to a land of fruit and ocean air. She had two more children. The family moved to where the work was. My Grandma would list of all the placed they lived over the years and talk about who they met when. These are the details that are the fuzziest. One thing that I do know is the family had animals wherever they were. Grandma A loved animals and always had cats and dogs around her house. The one animal that was hers and only hers was a chihuahua named Rena. I remember Rena as ornery. She did not love children but she did love my Grandma. She went everywhere with Grandma, often tucked up under Grandma's arm. I used to think that Rena was so ornery she would live forever, but she didn't.
What I admired about Grandma A was her ability to be a calming presence for animals until they passed over the Rainbow Bridge.... a trait that I wished I inherited. She was the go-to person for many, when it came to keeping an animal company until the euthanasia process was complete. My uncle would always ask my Grandma to stand in for him when there was a cow that was past the point of hope and had to be euthanized. He recognized she give the cow what he couldn't, a peaceful passing.
Although she was able to calmly confront death and the after affects, as an outsider, it appeared she had difficulty confronting others. I recall witnessing times when she looked frustrated by a situation or the actions of others. But to the best of my knowledge she didn't express that frustration. She would step back and let the situation play itself out..... it would end how it was meant to end. My opinionated self could not fathom not speaking up..... voicing what I felt or thought..... but her technique seemed to work for her and probably saved many a heated argument and hurt feelings.
And that how I remember my Grandma A..... a soft place to land.... generous.... resilient... realistic..... stubborn to a fault.... a natural troubadour
Thank-you for being you Grandma Add.... you added heaping piles of love and mystery to my life and are missed everyday.
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