As a little kid, I always thought of Grandma as my “young,
cool Grandma”. I have memories of her playing tennis with me at the old North End
rec center, gracefully lapping me on ice skates at the rink, and kicking my
butt (and everyone else’s) in bowling…and rubbing it in, just a little bit,
when she won.
She took us to bingo where she masterfully played an
impressive spread of cards, while still managing to reach across the table to
stamp any called numbers that I’d missed on my one.
She swapped chewing gum for kisses. Always had money when
the ice cream truck came by. And taught me by example that it’s ok to have
dessert for dinner, as long as it’s served with a cup of tea.
As a preteen and young teenager, I remember the thrill of
getting to visit Grandma and Grandpa in the summer, unaccompanied by my own
parents. Grandma wasn’t known for cooking, but she let us fill the grocery
basket with our favorite foods when we came…so long as we could fix them
ourselves.
On one of those visits, I went downstairs to get a frozen
pizza and, to my dismay, found Grandma in the laundry room modeling a pair of
my daisy dukes. I was a pint-sized 13-year-old at the time. Seeing her “grandma
body” in those short-shorts is something that I will never forget, but my horror
was lost on her. She was too busy strutting around the room as she held her
tiny waist with her hands and asked, “How does it make you feel to know that
your Grandma can wear your shorts, dear?”
As memorable as that occasion was, it was surpassed years
later, when, after a spill down several stairs, Grandma told me that I could
not imagine the size of the bruise on her bum. Despite my emphatic reassurances
that I really could imagine, Grandma
felt the need to show me, and dropped her pants and drawers (that’s the right
word for old lady underwear, right?) down to her knees. I will have that vision
of her purple, black, and blue full moon seared in my mind forever. But I have
to give it to her, it was an
impressive bruise.
The trips to see my grandparents continued into my teen and
college years. I hope that Grandma and Grandpa know just how much those summers
meant to me--how much I value the time I got to spend with them and the
opportunity it gave me to know them in a different light.
Some of my most treasured memories from those summers are of
sitting at the kitchen table with Grandma while she sipped her tea; listening
to her tell stories about her childhood, or my mom as a kid, or other family
members. I remember vividly as Grandma recounted the time that Mom tried to
hide a bleeding Stevie underneath the kitchen table. The only thing funnier
than the story itself was watching Mom and Grandma tearing up with laughter
through the recounting.
Another memorable giggling fit ensued when she told me about
(was it Chuck?) robbing a bank drunk and then crashing his getaway-bicycle into
a pole. Grandma laughed so hard telling that story that she nearly fell off of
her chair.
In moments like that, I loved to see the sparkle in Grandma’s
eye because it showed a side of her that most people never got to see—one that
demonstrated her great sense of humor, and the ability to make fun of herself,
her spunk, her wit and, yes, her charisma.
By the summer that I stayed with Grandma and Grandpa after
my first year of college, Grandma had become a bit more reclusive and no longer
kept up with some of her old activities. So I always made an extra effort to
get her out of the house to do fun things with me. She may not have always
agreed to come along, but she seemed amused and tickled when I’d ask her if she
wanted to go to the movies or hit the bars with me and my friends.
Occasionally she would surprise me and agree to come out.
One night, when I wasn’t working, Grandma agreed to go out to Diamond Jim’s
together. When we got there, a bunch of guys, some of whom worked at the tavern
with me, were starting a dart tournament and invited us to play. Grandma
surprised me when she jumped to the challenge, and delighted me when she not
only held her own in darts, but engaged in a witty, almost flirtatious banter
with the other participants. They ate up every minute of it as I watched on in
admiration.
So, yes, Grandma really could be people savvy at times, but,
let’s be honest, she was better known for her knack for saying things in the
exact worst way. Like the time that I think she was meaning to compliment me
when she told me that I was like the girl next door, while my sister was more
of a super model type. Or when she complimented my eyes and then asked me if I
had ever thought about wearing color contacts in the same breath.
I know that each of us has our share of anecdotes about
things that Grandma said that were hilariously cruel, and also left us a little
scarred.
Other than her surprising penchant for sentimental cards, I
would never claim that Grandma was good at expressing her feelings for me, but she
showed me in countless ways that she loved me.
She expressed it through her generosity. She was a giver of
thoughtful and generous gifts—one of the most cherished of which was the
photographer and pictures for my wedding. Until I got married, any piece of
quality jewelry that I owned came from her. Grandma and Grandpa made Christmas
possible at our house through their generosity. She and Grandpa also used their
limited resources to pay for my travel expenses to see them all of those
summers. And, as we all know, my “work” at the tavern in the summers to help me
pay for college was more an act of charity than an actual job.
And Grandma expressed love by simply being there for me—especially
for key milestones in my life. When I graduated from high school, Grandma was
there for me. When I graduated from college, Grandma was there for me. When I
got married, Grandma was there for me.
Too many miles separated us, and there were times that years
went by between our visits, but I’ve always known that when and if I needed
her, that Grandma was there for me. That she loved me. And that I held a
special place in her heart…and she in mine.
What more could a granddaughter ask for?
Grandma, it breaks my heart that I’m not there for you today, but I hope you know that no
matter how many miles (or stars, or
worlds) are between us, or how many years pass before I see you again, I will love
you forever and always carry you in my heart.
I love you, Grandma!
