A tribute to grandma
My earliest memories with
Grandma take place in Shelbyville, Indiana. We’d pack up the family van once or
twice a year, luggage so heavy the rear end sagged, and hit the road before the
sun rose. Getting up that early seemed like a big deal then. But we’d be so
excited to see Grandma and Grandpa, it didn’t matter; we wouldn’t sleep the
night before or on the 16-hour road trip anyway.
Pulling in to the farmhouse always ignited the same feelings of anxiety within me. My heart fluttered with both excitement and shyness as we entered through the mud room at the back of the house. And there they’d be: Grandma and Grandpa, arms open wide to welcome their family into their home. One hug and my shyness melted from my already warmed-up heart. We were home.
Grandma would have the best activities to keep us busy. She was creative. Whether it was “painting” the fence with old paint brushes and a bucket of water or typing on their typewriter in the room upstairs, we were always entertained. If there were ever a dull moment, Grandma had a stash of coloring books in the cabinet and Foghorn Leghorn cartoons at the ready. One time, we were out and about and I was getting fussy. Grandma put her creative mind to work and found a little piece of fuzz. Rolling it between her fingers, she showed it to me and introduced it as Willie Woolie. Needless to say, Willie Woolie became a mainstay in our playtime. What a neat lady to make up such a character from a simple piece of fuzz — but that was Grandma.
After Grandpa died, Grandma moved to Minnesota and lived in our basement for a time. I remember having sleepovers with her; how I loved them! The only catch was that I’d tell Grandma she needed to read so I could fall asleep before her; because Grandma ... snored. Good thing she was an avid reader.
Reading wasn’t her only hobby, Grandma loved playing cards too. She delighted in starting up a game of Canasta, Widow Whist or her favorite, Double Solitaire — and boy was she quick! Her hands flew as she shuffled through those cards! She put us kids to shame but she never rubbed it in. We learned from the best and eventually, got fast enough to give her a run for her money.
Grandma loved a good book, she loved a good game but it’s her love for a good joke that really made her smile! Grandma had a great sense of humor. Oh how she’d laugh, especially if it was Norwegian humor. I remember one cute joke she told me that went like this:
An old couple is sitting in their living room when the old woman leans over and says to the old man, "Remember when we were younger and you used to hold my hand?" The old man grabs the old woman's hand. Then she says, "Remember when we were younger and you used to put your arm around me?" The old man puts his arm around the old woman. Then she says, "Remember when we were younger and you used to nibble on my ear?" To the old woman's surprise, the old man gets up off the couch and starts to walk away. "Honey, where are you going?" she says. The old man replies, "I'm going to get my dentures."
For me, and I think others would agree, it was Grandma’s laugh and spunk that made her seem forever young.
When Grandma moved to her townhouse in Redwood, we continued having sleepovers. (The same reading-before-bedtime rule applied.) Her home was a blessing for us grandkids and she was quick to give each of us a key to come and go as we pleased. I took her up on this; we all did.
I’d often stop by after school to change my clothes for a run through the park. Grandma wouldn’t usually be home from work yet but she would be when I got back. Having seen my car in the driveway, she’d greet me with a warm, “Hi honey! Can you sit down for a bit?” I’d say, “Of course!” and we’d chat about our day as I stretched on the living room floor.
Grandma made everyone feel welcome in her home and she always had cold Pepsi in the fridge, waiting to be enjoyed. She also had a pantry full of snacks. Whatever we liked she’d keep on hand. Grandma loved salt so we knew we could find Pringles, Cheez-Its and popcorn from Tersteeg’s inside the large mirrored doors of the pantry. Sometimes she’d have a stash by her nightstand too! She also had blue cheese and sauerkraut as permanent residents in the fridge but we let her keep those all to herself. Grandma encouraged us to dig, discover and enjoy so we did — happily. I never felt like I was bothering her, intruding or overstaying my welcome. She was more than generous with her belongings, time and of course, love. That was Grandma.
Years passed and Grandma began having back problems. It was no longer safe to live in a split-level home. A unit in Homestead opened up and Grandma made the move from Swain to East Fifth Street. What a blessing that was. With her in Redwood and me in Minneapolis, our relationship shifted from predominantly face-to-face to over-the-phone. We made it a priority to talk at least weekly, most conversations being over an hour in length. Grandma loved to talk but even more, loved to listen. She was the only person who I could literally tell about my entire day, detail-by-detail, and she’d not only find it interesting but also be able to repeat it back! It sure made me feel special. Nobody else listened to me as intently as she did. But that was Grandma.
When Grandma got a cell phone, she and I added texting to our routine, which we did daily. Grandma would write the cutest little things to me. A text from Thursday, February 15th at 8:06 a.m. reads:
Final step count by bedtime last night was 913. Got up, hit the button on the coffee maker, then got dressed & was ready for a cup of coffee, & all I had was hot water. Forgot the grounds. Have a good day!
I still look back at my texts from Grandma and treasure them. What a gem.
When Grandma started slowing down physically I started encouraging her to walk, sending text messages as reminders. This led to me buying her a pedometer, which led to setting daily walking goals. I even got her to set a 5 p.m. alarm, which reminded her to text me with her step count. If she hadn’t reached her goal, this was an opportunity to intentionally add some more steps before bedtime. Grandma began telling her friends over coffee about how her granddaughter was her “coach.” That made her smile — and me too! The best thing about being Grandma’s coach was seeing, hearing and feeling her light up when I told her how proud I was of her. Grandma’s JOY overflowed. Even when she wouldn’t make her step goal for the day I’d say, “That’s OK! As long as you did your best.” She always did. Because that was Grandma.
We all have an innate human desire to be loved, nurtured and to make those closest to us proud. Grandma loved. Grandma nurtured. And Grandma was quick to tell us she was proud of the things we accomplished and more importantly, the people we’d become.
It was easy to love this lady — to nurture her with our love. And you know what? I’m proud of more than the steps she took on earth, any job she did or award she won. I’m proud of who Grandma was.
Grandma,
Thank you for showing by example how to honor the Lord and love your family. Your humor, intentional listening and faith will live on in your daughter, granddaughters and great granddaughters because we, like you, are Daughters of the King.
I love you, beautiful girl. Rest In Peace.+
Pulling in to the farmhouse always ignited the same feelings of anxiety within me. My heart fluttered with both excitement and shyness as we entered through the mud room at the back of the house. And there they’d be: Grandma and Grandpa, arms open wide to welcome their family into their home. One hug and my shyness melted from my already warmed-up heart. We were home.
Grandma would have the best activities to keep us busy. She was creative. Whether it was “painting” the fence with old paint brushes and a bucket of water or typing on their typewriter in the room upstairs, we were always entertained. If there were ever a dull moment, Grandma had a stash of coloring books in the cabinet and Foghorn Leghorn cartoons at the ready. One time, we were out and about and I was getting fussy. Grandma put her creative mind to work and found a little piece of fuzz. Rolling it between her fingers, she showed it to me and introduced it as Willie Woolie. Needless to say, Willie Woolie became a mainstay in our playtime. What a neat lady to make up such a character from a simple piece of fuzz — but that was Grandma.
After Grandpa died, Grandma moved to Minnesota and lived in our basement for a time. I remember having sleepovers with her; how I loved them! The only catch was that I’d tell Grandma she needed to read so I could fall asleep before her; because Grandma ... snored. Good thing she was an avid reader.
Reading wasn’t her only hobby, Grandma loved playing cards too. She delighted in starting up a game of Canasta, Widow Whist or her favorite, Double Solitaire — and boy was she quick! Her hands flew as she shuffled through those cards! She put us kids to shame but she never rubbed it in. We learned from the best and eventually, got fast enough to give her a run for her money.
Grandma loved a good book, she loved a good game but it’s her love for a good joke that really made her smile! Grandma had a great sense of humor. Oh how she’d laugh, especially if it was Norwegian humor. I remember one cute joke she told me that went like this:
An old couple is sitting in their living room when the old woman leans over and says to the old man, "Remember when we were younger and you used to hold my hand?" The old man grabs the old woman's hand. Then she says, "Remember when we were younger and you used to put your arm around me?" The old man puts his arm around the old woman. Then she says, "Remember when we were younger and you used to nibble on my ear?" To the old woman's surprise, the old man gets up off the couch and starts to walk away. "Honey, where are you going?" she says. The old man replies, "I'm going to get my dentures."
For me, and I think others would agree, it was Grandma’s laugh and spunk that made her seem forever young.
When Grandma moved to her townhouse in Redwood, we continued having sleepovers. (The same reading-before-bedtime rule applied.) Her home was a blessing for us grandkids and she was quick to give each of us a key to come and go as we pleased. I took her up on this; we all did.
I’d often stop by after school to change my clothes for a run through the park. Grandma wouldn’t usually be home from work yet but she would be when I got back. Having seen my car in the driveway, she’d greet me with a warm, “Hi honey! Can you sit down for a bit?” I’d say, “Of course!” and we’d chat about our day as I stretched on the living room floor.
Grandma made everyone feel welcome in her home and she always had cold Pepsi in the fridge, waiting to be enjoyed. She also had a pantry full of snacks. Whatever we liked she’d keep on hand. Grandma loved salt so we knew we could find Pringles, Cheez-Its and popcorn from Tersteeg’s inside the large mirrored doors of the pantry. Sometimes she’d have a stash by her nightstand too! She also had blue cheese and sauerkraut as permanent residents in the fridge but we let her keep those all to herself. Grandma encouraged us to dig, discover and enjoy so we did — happily. I never felt like I was bothering her, intruding or overstaying my welcome. She was more than generous with her belongings, time and of course, love. That was Grandma.
Years passed and Grandma began having back problems. It was no longer safe to live in a split-level home. A unit in Homestead opened up and Grandma made the move from Swain to East Fifth Street. What a blessing that was. With her in Redwood and me in Minneapolis, our relationship shifted from predominantly face-to-face to over-the-phone. We made it a priority to talk at least weekly, most conversations being over an hour in length. Grandma loved to talk but even more, loved to listen. She was the only person who I could literally tell about my entire day, detail-by-detail, and she’d not only find it interesting but also be able to repeat it back! It sure made me feel special. Nobody else listened to me as intently as she did. But that was Grandma.
When Grandma got a cell phone, she and I added texting to our routine, which we did daily. Grandma would write the cutest little things to me. A text from Thursday, February 15th at 8:06 a.m. reads:
Final step count by bedtime last night was 913. Got up, hit the button on the coffee maker, then got dressed & was ready for a cup of coffee, & all I had was hot water. Forgot the grounds. Have a good day!
I still look back at my texts from Grandma and treasure them. What a gem.
When Grandma started slowing down physically I started encouraging her to walk, sending text messages as reminders. This led to me buying her a pedometer, which led to setting daily walking goals. I even got her to set a 5 p.m. alarm, which reminded her to text me with her step count. If she hadn’t reached her goal, this was an opportunity to intentionally add some more steps before bedtime. Grandma began telling her friends over coffee about how her granddaughter was her “coach.” That made her smile — and me too! The best thing about being Grandma’s coach was seeing, hearing and feeling her light up when I told her how proud I was of her. Grandma’s JOY overflowed. Even when she wouldn’t make her step goal for the day I’d say, “That’s OK! As long as you did your best.” She always did. Because that was Grandma.
We all have an innate human desire to be loved, nurtured and to make those closest to us proud. Grandma loved. Grandma nurtured. And Grandma was quick to tell us she was proud of the things we accomplished and more importantly, the people we’d become.
It was easy to love this lady — to nurture her with our love. And you know what? I’m proud of more than the steps she took on earth, any job she did or award she won. I’m proud of who Grandma was.
Grandma,
Thank you for showing by example how to honor the Lord and love your family. Your humor, intentional listening and faith will live on in your daughter, granddaughters and great granddaughters because we, like you, are Daughters of the King.
I love you, beautiful girl. Rest In Peace.+
What a wonderful and thoughtful tribute to your Grandmother now in heaven; and I believe she listened to every word you said with an angelic smile.
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