When I was sixteen I was playing a grandmother in a school play. The director of our show was getting very frustrated with the exuberant energetic grandmother I was portraying. He pulled me aside and asked me what my grandma was doing right then, I honestly replied, "she's hiking in the Amazon." He looked at me and told me to act like someone else's grandma not like mine.
My Grandma passed away last Tuesday night after her final bout with cancer. I was lucky enough to get to spend her final hours with her, holding her hand and saying goodbye. She was visited all day by family, friends, and neighbors. Everyone sat with her and shared special memories as we all said goodbye. When the time came she was surrounded by her children and a few of her grandchildren.
Now most people would call their grandmothers sweet. Um that is not an adjective I would ever use to describe my grandma. She was a feisty red head, a true diva that still visited the salon once a week to get her hair done. Her glasses were legendary among her grandchildren and we loved to look through the pictures on her wall to see how far back we could date the glasses.
I had a very special relationship with my grandma. She is also the reason I still can't eat my fries until my burger is gone. I remember swimming at her condo during summers and then going to the park for a picnic of tuna sandwiches-with cheese, pringles, and teddy grahams. There were sleep overs where the couch magically transformed into a bed and the next morning we would go out and get our work out in walking the mall. As I got older outings turned to the mall, minus the morning work outs, and trips to Gardner's Village. I spent many Thanksgiving Eves and Thanksgving mornings at Grandma's, helping getting ready for Thanksgiving. It was still a blow when I found out that her pies came from Marie Calendars and her carrot cake came from a local bakery. Oh and when I found out that she didn't make the Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies I was crushed for weeks.
As I entered my twenties our relationship morphed again. We started travelling a bit together. Our first trip was with my brother and Poppa to the Shakespeare Festival where we extended it and went to Bryce Canyon for a day. Then there was our trip to Boise where she showed me and my coworkers how to make a proper mimosa. We went to Santa Barbara for my cousin's wedding and boy what an adventure that was! We toured a few of the missions, went to Slovang, and spent time on the beach. We started going to the Shakespeare festival every year with her sister Mary and my friend Katie. It was there I started to refer to her as a member of the Ya-Yas. And though she drove me crazy on those trips to Cedar she always said what a wonderful time she had, and after we got two different hotel rooms I usually had a pretty good time too. She paid for my plane ticket to Atlanta where I did my first 3-day cancer walk in her honor. And she took me to DC with my parents where she whacked everyone with her cane while Dad pushed her in her wheelchair.
When I got married she accepted my new children without any thought. They were now hers and sure enough the cards on birthdays, valentines day, and Halloween came without fail.
I would often get little articles or comics from her in the mail. I will miss that. We spent many evenings together watching BBC movies and eating pork chops after my grandpa died. And I was so grateful when I went out to lunch with her just a few weeks ago. She loved to show my children off and she made me feel like the best mother and granddaughter around with all the undeserved praise she heaped on me.
So Grandma, thank you for the adventure and for what you have taught me the last 33 years. Thank you for supporting me, for inviting yourself on my vacations, for teaching me to love Shakespeare, for driving me crazy, for loving me, and for letting me be part of the last years of your life. I will miss you and our lunches.
