It’s been a little over two years since my paternal grandmother, my last living grandparent, passed away. She’s been on my mind a lot lately. I’ve been remembering little things mainly, and I have this strong desire to be able to go back and watch all those interactions again.
When my family still lived a good five hours away and we’d be coming for a visit at my grandma and grandpa’s in the big city, our arrival would usually be after dark. We’d pull up in their driveway, weary and tired, and make our way to the door and ring the bell. My grandpa had installed this crazy doorbell and I remember being greeted with the La Cucaracha melody. Man, the things my poor grandma endured. But it was funny. Every. Time. It did put a smile on our faces. Every. Time. My grandma would come to the door and give us her warm, “Well, hi! Come on in!” greeting. And we’d come on in and we’d get to shelling and eating the roasted peanuts my grandparents always had on hand.
My grandma was a great cook, but for so many years I didn’t appreciate her unique culinary talents. I suppose my taste buds were about as immature as I was. She would make scrambled eggs and throw in onion and bell pepper. I couldn’t stand my eggs like this. I’d end up picking at the eggs and eating a stack of buttered toast and snagging as much crispy bacon as possible. I would scarf down those eggs now. Funny how my grandma didn’t give in to pickiness. I’m pretty sure she was well aware I didn’t like the peppered eggs, but she wasn’t going to go all “special order” on us. That just wasn’t her way. Smart lady. Oh how I wish I would’ve learned this lesson with my own kids. Sometimes I feel like I’m running a diner. But I digress, I miss my grandma’s eccentric (well, to me it was eccentric) like cooking.
At Christmas time, birthdays and showers, if the gift recipient received a duplicate of something he/she already had, my grandma didn’t miss a beat, “Well, now you have two!” The lady knew how to knock off the pout on anyone’s face. I mean, who could argue with her logic? Pure gold, genius, that was my grandma.
And my grandma had no need to buy greeting cards, she would write thoughtful and sweet sentiments in every card, every note. When she would give one of us grandkids a keepsake, say a candy dish or some other memento from one of our great grandparents, she would always include a description of what it was and the year if she remembered. I love how her writings became the best keepsake of them all.