On this Mother's Day morning, I've been thinking about grandmothers, Greg's and mine, and the little ways that they will influence the kind of grandma I want to be.
When we first married, 28 years ago, we were blessed to have all of our grandparents still living. A few short months later, we unexpectedly lost Greg's Grandma Wolfe. Myrtle was a tiny little woman, frail by the time I knew her. I didn't know her well, but Greg's mom tells me about Myrtle's needlework, and Greg remembers the raisin-filled cookies she made when he was a child. I have that recipe, and look forward to making the cookies and telling my grandchildren that their own Grampy loved them when his grandma made them.
This photo is from her wedding portrait:
This is Elsie, my Grandma Adams. She's the grandmother I knew best, because we lived in the same town and we were there all the time. Grandma will also be known for cookies, but more for the cookie jar on top of the frig that always had something inside. And the package of Doublemint gum on the counter - she'd always give us a piece if we asked, but just a half. There were dozens of grandkids and only so much gum. Grandma used to call us up and ask for either Tonita or I walk over and comb her hair. She had those big grey metal duckbill clips and would let us style her hair any way we wanted, as long as we kept combing. :o)
Mildred was Greg's paternal grandmother, and I only met her a few times after we were married. She was a gracious hostess, always wanting to know if we needed anything to eat. :o) One time when we visited, Greg's brother requested that she make Gumbo. She did, and I remember it was a long process, but she was happy to do it. She told me once that we were the only ones who had ever called her "Grandma". We were the Northeners - the rest of Greg's dad's family lives in Texas and they all called her "Maw-Maw". (I think that's how you spell it, you just have to hear it to know the difference between that and Mama...)
This is Elsie, my Grandma Adams. She's the grandmother I knew best, because we lived in the same town and we were there all the time. Grandma will also be known for cookies, but more for the cookie jar on top of the frig that always had something inside. And the package of Doublemint gum on the counter - she'd always give us a piece if we asked, but just a half. There were dozens of grandkids and only so much gum. Grandma used to call us up and ask for either Tonita or I walk over and comb her hair. She had those big grey metal duckbill clips and would let us style her hair any way we wanted, as long as we kept combing. :o)
Mildred was Greg's paternal grandmother, and I only met her a few times after we were married. She was a gracious hostess, always wanting to know if we needed anything to eat. :o) One time when we visited, Greg's brother requested that she make Gumbo. She did, and I remember it was a long process, but she was happy to do it. She told me once that we were the only ones who had ever called her "Grandma". We were the Northeners - the rest of Greg's dad's family lives in Texas and they all called her "Maw-Maw". (I think that's how you spell it, you just have to hear it to know the difference between that and Mama...)
My Grandma Regier was the last of our grandparents to pass away. Her name was Tena, and one time she told us that was short for Katherine. She was quite a cook and a crafter. I recently got out the baby quilt she made for Jessica, and am using it as a pattern to make one for my own grandchild. I always enjoyed staying with her for a few days over school breaks - she made time to play games and read and go for walks, but we also helped with the chores. One time we picked cherries and I spent an afternoon pitting the big bucketful while she puttered around the kitchen. She was 91 when she died last December - this photo was taken in July. She was happy to pose for pictures, even if she wasn't quite sure how she knew us. The last time I saw her was a week before she passed. She only said one word, asking if I was cold, but responded otherwise by shaking her head yes or no. She held my hand the entire time, and Jessi swears that Grandma knew who I was.
I know I will take little pieces of each of these women and fit them into what I will be as a Grandma, and these women will live on as we share their life stories with this next generation.Happy Mother's Day!
