Dear Grandma (Sorry About Yesterday’s Post)

Dear Grandma,

How’s the Internet connection in Heaven? I’m asking because I yesterday pressed “publish” on a blog post that may not put you in the best light.  And now I feel guilty, because you can’t tell your side of the story, which I fear may be exploitative of you.

And it’s not that I didn’t tell the truth, because I told the truest story I know about your relationship with Blue Baby.  But also there was a 500-word limit.  I ran out of space before I could say more about who you were to me.

You probably know this, but I am all grown up with two kids and a husband.  My husband is amazing– you would love how handy he is. He could probably build you a barn from scratch after watching a few YouTube videos.  And, it would be funny to see you process that he’s Jewish, especially since you speak from a time before political correctness.

My daughter is wild and fiery with a giant afro of curls.  She’s like the love child of Malcolm Gladwell and Puck from Midsummer Night’s Dream My son is soulful and introspective; he’s already quite fetching.  I suspect he’ll use his  good looks for the betterment of humankind.  They both would love you, especially if you still keep all that gum in your purse.

Grandma's House-- outside of Forreston, Texas

Grandma’s House– outside of Forreston, Texas

I am glad I included the line that you were my favorite person. But there were other great lines I had to cut.

What I Didn’t Get To Say:

  • I had a great line in there about your crystal candy jars– undoubtedly bought at Souls Harbor (thrift store benefiting Alcoholics Anonymous) for less than $2.00– and the way you filled them with Fig Newtons.  No prissy after dinner mints in your candy jars.
  • When I put the kids to bed, I tell them “Cricket” stories about a little girl who visits her Grandma’s farm.  The stories are all based on my adventures with you and Granddaddy, and I usually can’t get through them without choking up.  I tell them all about painting the ramshackle house on your property you dubbed “the $200 house,” and running through the creek looking for gold and running from cows.
  • I tell her about your country church where people would take Jesus into their hearts and ya’ll would sing “How Great Thou Art,” while I played with your key chain during the boring parts.
  • You taught me the words to “Yes, Jesus Loves Me,” and assured me that you believed in the Divine order of all things.  I loved that about you: your faith.  You made me feel like it would all make sense one day if I could just be patient.
  • Every time I sleep on the floor, which thankfully is hardly ever, I think about falling asleep at the foot of your bed on quilts and blankets that smelled like you.  I loved staring at the light coming through your window from the lamp post behind the house.
  • Your cooking has a revered place in my heart.  I remember you preparing salad once, but you discovered you were out of salad dressing. “No problem,” you said, as you simply heated up some bacon grease and poured it on some wilted spinach.  Genius.
  • I have magical memories of sitting shotgun in your car on the way to the big city– Waxahachie, Texas– while you sang song after song praising Jesus.  Between verses, you would tell me stories about my daddy and yourself as a young farmer’s wife.  You were a great storyteller.

We can talk more about this when we meet again in the Great Hereafter. Would it be weird if I sat in your lap and asked for some circus peanuts?  Please save me a seat up there.  Tell Granddaddy, Uncle Buggs, Aunt Zelda and the whole gang I said hello.

Love,

Christie

PS: Feel free to “like” my Facebook page and follow me on Twitter– I promise I keep it pretty clean over there.

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19 thoughts on “Dear Grandma (Sorry About Yesterday’s Post)

  1. I love that we got to hear more about her, but I just have to say that I didn’t think you disparaged her in any way yesterday. Because you told the story from a child’s perspective it was clear that you didn’t really understand what happened. You were too young to grasp why she did it at the time, but you knew she loved you and wouldn’t do something just to hurt you.

    Or maybe it was just me who saw all that.

    I also grew up with a tough mom and a super tough nana who came to this country and supported her entire family from the age of 11. I always knew they loved me, but they were firm about their beliefs. They imposed them on everyone – even children – and there was no accounting for us not being able to comprehend. It didn’t even occur to them that some of their actions might be cruel, to them it was just right. Of course my mom and nana agreed on almost nothing so I had two fierce women bossing me around in different ways. It makes for lots of good grown up fodder.

    • Can I advance order your memoir? Because it’s going to be awesome. Will you tell me what country they came from sometime? I would have guessed you came from strong women. And it helps to hear that it didn’t sound like I threw my Grandma under the bus. That would sort of kill me.

  2. Ok, but seriously – how do you manage to be so poignant, so sincere and yet you can’t help yourself with the hilarity? It’s a talent that keeps me running back to your site (whatever it’s called – ps – any new developments there?)

  3. I love your Grandma. Lol
    Great photo of the farmhouse.

    My grandmas and great grandmas — I called them nanas/nannies — are gone now. I’d love to sit at one of their kitchen tables again, eating goodies, and hearing stories.

  4. I loved hearing all these other tidbits about your grandma, although I agree that your post yesterday was not disrespectful to her in any way. It was just the way things happened from your point of view. Actually, the fact that you didn’t disparage her in any way makes yesterday’s post that much more touching. If it was just you bitching about your grandma for throwing out your doll, well,,,it would be a completely different post. Does that make sense?

  5. I have to agree that your post from yesterday was in no way disparaging of your grandma. But I did really like today’s post because we got to know her better. I spent summer’s on my grandparent’s farm in Oklahoma. I usually just pretended I was Dorothy Gale in Oklahoma instead of Kansas all summer long and waited for the tornado to get me. But there were lots of cool memories of playing in the dirt in the backyard as chickens pecked the ground around me, and waking up to the rooster’s crow. So thanks for bringing back memories!

  6. Grandmas & dolls…you had me laughing & crying instantly. I am fortunate to still have one of my Grandmas. And it’s ok to remember their imperfect moments…after all they started out as moms and we all just do the best we can. Our kids’ kids will adore us someday. Lizzie has my favorite doll from when I was 6. She has been toting her everywhere thanks to my mom who sent her off to Madame Alexander last year for some much needed limb re-attachment surgery.

    Such a sweet blog!

  7. You had definitely given your Grandma all the respect and love we clearly knew you felt for her. That’s what made the Blue Baby story all the more heartbreaking. No disparagement. So don’t beat yourself up (on this or your later post (: ), but I love that we got more delicious bits of your relationship. Like fig newtons from a candy jar. Please write a book!

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