Tuesday, October 14, 2008

I miss you Grandma and Grandpa Lakes

I had a late night thinking fondly of my childhood with my grandma and grandpa. As children, we were allowed to be selfish and greedy with our love and time with grandma and grandpa as we were their only grandchildren. Though I'm sure I would have loved cousins, I loved not sharing these precious people.

They attended every important event in my life. I do not believe I have a memory that does not include my grandparents. Grandma was always flitting around cooking and cleaning while grandpa sat and tried to catch a child to snuggle and kiss. I remember on my wedding day I refused to wear shoes. When the preacher announced us husband and wife, I jumped up and down. There was grandpa in the front row saying, "Little Bit isn't wearing any shoes." My mom tried to shut him up to not draw attention....priceless.

An end of an era for me is making it's way into my life uninvited. The farm is going to be taken apart, dismantled to make room for renters. I won't have a chance to walk the lane to the pond or snoop through grandmas drawers of old pictures one last time. Last night I wrote a letter trying to think of the things from the farm that would mean the most to me. Oh, what a terrible letter to write. I cried through the entire thing.

Here are the things that remind me most of my grandparents. First, her copper salt shaker. The salt comes out fast and in masses. The way grandma liked it and now the way I like it. We would both take our salt shaker, an entire half of a watermelon and sit in front of the TV and eat until we were waterlogged.

The Styrofoam worm holder....it was always the same one. It attended all of our fishing trips where she taught me to pull the worm in two to make them last longer.

The pee pot she always tried to get me to use upstairs, but I never would. The thought of not having the energy to make it down the stairs seemed so silly to me.

Her spatulas that she used for frying bacon and eggs in her red kitchen, wearing her night hat with toilette paper wrapping her hair.

The handsome picture of my grandpa in uniform.

The smell.

Grandma running out the back door to scream her excited greeting as if I'm the only person on earth she wanted to visit.

Grandpa asleep on the recliner acting like he doesn't watch soap operas.

The high stool in the kitchen where I could sit and listen to all the old stories being told. Like the time Aunt Ida saw a ghost in blue and white striped boxer shorts on her daughters wedding day.

Unmatched teacups that came from garage sales...any garage sale will do.

I'm glad you can't pack a memory away in a box....and I know they will always live with me. I know every cherry tree, every crack in the sidewalk, the old fence post where I learned to clean fish, every broken down dog house on that farm. I remember the smell, the color of the clematis, the ageless peony along the drive. It was a life's work and it was beautiful. I was blessed to be a part of it. I want to grow up to be just like her. I want everyone that comes through my doors to feel as loved as she made me feel.

1 comment:

MotherofFive said...

What a wonderful tribute and reflection on life! How special that you have written this down and thought through the fun times. I know this is so hard. I am praying for you-for peace and grace.

A place to find encouragement to love your little ones, your husbands and those you come in contact with daily. Two does not have to be terrible. These are years to grow not simply get through!