When I was a little girl, I was terrified of my grandma. To be quite honest, she was mean to me. She told me all the time that I was spoiled. She was right, I was spoiled. But she was the only person who ever told me so. So of course, being very young, I was terrified of her and thought she was mean.
There are three things that stand out to me about my grandma (aside from her complete disdain for anyone having anything remotely edible in her living room) from when I was growing up:
She always wore big decorative earrings. Not tacky decorative, just different from most people's earrings. She had earrings for every season and holiday.Whenever Gram got ready to go out, whether it was to go to town to do shopping or to visit her friends, she'd put on red lipstick. And when she'd blot her lipstick? She'd kiss the roll of toilet paper hanging in the bathroom. There are countless times in my life where I have gone into the bathroom at my grandma's house, and there's been a big ol' lip print on the roll of toilet paper. Finally, my grandma made the best toast. I don't think she did anything special. There was no trick. But whenever you'd stay at Gram's and she'd make breakfast, there was always a big stack of toast. Gram's toast tasted like pure heaven.
Everyone who ever met my grandparents loved them. They were hilarious and could talk to you about anything, and boy did they love each other. My grandparents were married just shy of 40 years. I don't think it's necessary to tell you that my grandma was devastated when Grandpa died in March of 2003.
After Grandpa died, I knew Gram was depressed and lonely. I was just about to be 18, and I was no longer terrified of my grandma, so I made it my personal mission to look after her. I started calling regularly. I'd stay with her for the weekend and buy her dinner. And I kept this up for the next several years. When I was in my twenties I'd stop and visit after getting out of work. I would stop by to help her dye her hair. On more than one occasion I'd come over just to lay on her living room floor just because I had cramps or I had a horrible day.
In January of 2009, my mom and I were trying to decide what to do. We had gotten to the point where we were both miserable with our lives in Upper Michigan. We'd discussed going where my mom had friends that could help us find jobs. But, then Gram said she'd like someone to drive her to visit her sister in Sarasota, Florida. So we signed up.
We left the first week of February. It took five days to drive from Upper Michigan to Sarasota. The drive itself on map quest is 1 Day 3 hours. Yeah.
We had to stop every night so Gram could eat and we stayed overnight in a hotel. Gram has been diabetic my whole life, so it was just part of a routine for all of us in the family: We had to make sure Gram ate on time.
I'm not going to make it seem like the trip was fantastic. It wasn't. Gram and I annoyed the shit out of each other the whole way. She wanted quiet in the car, but as the only driver, I needed music to help keep me awake. This did lead to an adorable instance where my grandmother started mocking Katy Perry, singing "UR So Gay". It cracks me up just to think about it now.
But we fought in the hotel rooms, in the car Gram would pretend to be asleep just to "wake up" to point out how fast I was driving. On more than one occasion I'd leave the room just to get some personal space.
When we got to Sarasota? Gram bragged about me to her sisters. About what a good kid I am, and how great I did driving. Because that's how my grandma was. You could piss her off royally, but she also understood you were fighting with her because a Dodge Neon is not big enough for 3 people to coexist for 8 hours a day. Gram just got it. She always got me, anyway.
Gram was always the person I called with my news. Whether it was getting my first job in Florida, or when I left my first job in Florida for a better paying job close to home. She was the first person I called when I bought my new car. She loved my stories about work, about going to see bands play or when mom and I rode roller coasters at my company picnic. And she never hesitated to tell me how proud she was of me. Granted, she may add a little aside like, "Well now that you've got that car, Tag, you can't miss any work. Gotta make that payment."
The best thing my grandma always said was "I hope to tell ya." No matter what you'd say, if you called to say you were trying for a new position at work and how nice a raise would be, "I hope to tell ya". It always made me laugh, every time she said it.
My mom and grandma had this thing they'd do when they'd talk on the phone. Mom would ask, "Who loves you, Mama?" and my grandma would always say "You do." or "Sandi does". When Gram was in the hospital and couldn't talk, mom would make Gram's nurses go into her room and ask, "Who loves ya?".
The last time I talked to my grandmother was June 8th. I called to thank her for my birthday card and to tell her about work and goings-on. We talked for a few minutes, but I didn't want to keep her long because I could tell she was tired and wasn't breathing all that great. And mom asked me to ask her who loves her. So, I asked. "Gram, Ma wants to know who loves you?"And Gram thought about it for about 30 seconds. Then, with all of the sass in the world, said, "A big ol MAN!".
My grandma had a great sense of humor.
Two weeks after that Gram went into the hospital, because she wasn't able to breathe. She never came out of the hospital, instead she passed away in her sleep.
The last time I saw my grandma was in 2009. I can't remember the date, but I know we were at the Tampa airport. I watched her go through her gate until I couldn't see her anymore.
The last time I talked to my grandma was June 8th. I know it was June 8th because it was three days before my birthday, and it was her and my grandpa's anniversary. When I hung up I was laughing, and so was she.
Everyone always says the same thing: They're in a better place. And for my grandma, I know it's true. She's with Grandpa. She's not in pain anymore. We should all be lucky to pass so peacefully, in our sleep.
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