Grandma’s Wrinkles Tell Stories – and I Love Each One

On Christmas Eve, I opened a gift presented by my granddaughter.  The name of the book is “Grandmothers Are Like Snowflakes . . . No Two Are Alike” by Janet Lanese (who I believe refers to herself as “Grandma Jan”) and had started reading it before I went to bed and continued after I got up and after we opened presents.   It’s got a bunch of great thoughts and little proverbs and I started reminiscing with many quotes that I read – starting with myself.

Some quotes come with full names.  Some are quotes taken from children in which first name and age of child are given.  One of my favorite quotes came from an eight year old named Tammy.  It says, “I love my grandma’s wrinkles.  Every one tells a story” – which is where I got the title of this post.    

I don’t feel much like a grandma.  I haven’t been with Ester much to make a connection in which we are both comfortable in our roles.  She’ll be three in March.  Ester is cute and smart and has an amazing vocabulary – pretty much like Jenna did at her age – though I think Ester is a lot more articulate.  Maybe not.  It’s hard to say as we do not see Ester daily or even weekly.  

  

Tony and Rochelle have been back from Texas for twelve months now, and I doubt that I have seen Ester more than ten times since they’ve been back.  I know Tony would like to spend more time with us than they do.  They spend more time with her family.

Randy and Carrie also announced that they’re expecting.  Even though I do see Randy more than the other two boys put together, I don’t see Carrie even half as often.  Right now they live about the same distance from us as Tony and Rochelle.  That could change before the baby comes.

I have a friend who had given me a book called “Grandma Time” which contains finger stories and activities. I’ve gone through the book and have used some of the verses – with my niece and nephew and even Jenna, but not with Ester.  As a grandmother, I feel distant about it still.

What children expect from grandparent is not to be understood but to be loved. - Grandma Jan

I remember my mom spending time with my brother’s three oldest.  She spent time with all of her grandchildren – but those three (particularly Ellen and Kimball) are the ones I remember her spending time with the most.  Probably because I, myself, was included – at least in the beginning.  I had lost track with Candy.  She was three when Roland and I got married.  I didn’t actually spend time with Patrick’s children after that.  But I always had updates on how they were doing.  They spent time with mom at least once a week.  She was quite the proud grandmother.  She was always looking out for their interests and spending time with them.  I can’t say for certain that she had a favorite, but as she got older, she would always express her love toward Brian.

                                                     Ellen with both of her grandmothers

I remember her playing with Jenna.  Simple games like finger plays and peek-a-boo to outings to wheeler farm and Disney on Ice.  She would take all of us to see Corey’s plays and spring for pizza and ice cream.  She had a very giving heart – not just as a grandma, but as a mother.  I don’t know that the “skipping children” part would apply.

                  The secret of a happy live is to skip having children and go directly to the grandchildren – (this is quoted “Momma” from a cartoon character created by Mel Lazarus)

            My mom had taken Ellen to the hospital the day that Candy was born so that they could both watch the miracle of her sister’s birth.  Mom and Kayla were with me at the hospital when I had Jenna.  And even in her dementia state of mind, mom made it a priority to visit Kayla and Anna in the hospital and then Gary when it was time – though she was really slipping before he was born – telling me she could walk to the hospital to see him if she wanted to.  She no longer had the sanity to drive and we had taken away her keys.  But she knew that Garrett was her grandchild and she wanted that physical connection.

  

            I remember her playing on the floor with Anna – just like she used to do with Patrick’s children. I was happy that I got to see that before her mind got really bad.  Before we had to check her in to assisted living.

            Different minds.  Different grandmas.  Jenna doesn’t know her paternal grandmother as well as she started to know my mom.  She knows my mom well enough to miss her.  Well enough to miss who she was before her mind went.

Roland’s mom has scared her in the past – not intentionally. As mentioned in this post  Roland and I are from two very diverse backgrounds.  Being with Roland’s family is a cultural shock after being with mine.  Something Jenna was not used to.  My mom and Roland’s mom are definitely two different grandmas – which is not a bad thing.  Just goes to show we are two different snowflakes on two different environments.

            There’s an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” when Debra has her parents sharing the same table as the Barones.  Marie and Lois of course represent two entirely different backgrounds.  Lois is a lot more cultured and well traveled and seems so caught up in fine art and material things that she seems to overlook needs and wants of human kind – including her own children and grandchildren – not quite fitting the “grandmother” image.

            Though many find her meddlesome and don’t always agree with her ways, Marie definitely seems to fit the grandmotherly image.  She tells Debra that it is not her fault and labels Lois as “not Mother-ish)

Both of Jenna’s grandmothers give and love her.  Neither one of them are like either Lois or Marie.

            Then there’s my own grandmothers.  I have more childhood memories of my dad’s mom than I do of my mom’s mom.  Grandma Helen lived in Salt Lake and later moved to Murray (a sub-area of Salt Lake) and Grandma Mary lived in San Francisco.  Both grandmas enjoyed traveling – though Grandma Helen seemed to do a lot more when Grandpa Earl was alive and Grandma Mary seemed to do more after Grandpa Ralph passed away.

            I was too young to remember all the trips that Grandpa Earl and Grandma Helen took – many before I was even born.  I do remember seeing pictures taken when Grandpa had taken the entire family to Sun Valley.  I remember when Grandpa was sick before he died.  My mom noticed a huge change in Grandma’s personality after Grandpa passed.  Mom had said she’d become withdrawn and insecure and given up on life.  I was too young to remember what she was like before Grandpa died.

            I remember her smile and buying toys and spoiling us, it seemed.  I remember her laugh more than any sternness or insecurity.  I remember her giving.  I remember playing in her big house.  It is my understanding that she designed it.  She had treasures in her house and rooms to explore.  Every time we visited with grandma, there was adventure.  Grandma encouraged us to play and enjoy life.  At least that is the message I received.

            After Aunt Alice moved out, her children encouraged my grandma to move someplace smaller – and someplace closer to her boys – not that we lived that great of a distance from her to begin with.  But after she moved into the condo in Murray, I could ride my bike to her house.  I could come by myself if I wanted. 

            My cousin Michelle and I would often stay the night.  We would pretend that we were in a hotel.  I enjoyed my time with grandma.  I enjoyed being spoiled.  I enjoyed our friendship.  She had taken my cousins and brother and I on a trip to California to explore Disneyland and other adventures. 

            After high school Grandma Helen and I took a vacation to Hawaii.  We went with a tour.  She had been to Hawaii several times before and kept on comparing how wonderful it used to be compared to how it was at the time we went together.  I wish she hadn’t been so negative, but still made the best of it.  

            Since Grandma Mary lived in San Francisco, I didn’t see her near as often – though more often than Jenna sees her out-of-state grandmother.  We would visit once or twice a year.  Sometimes she and grandpa would come visit us or else we would go to San Francisco to visit them.

            I would write letters to Grandma and Grandpa.  Unfortunately I don’t remember grandma as much as grandpa until after grandpa passed away.  After that, I gained a more intimate relationship with Grandma Mary.  And I remember going to San Francisco at least once without my family. We took grandma Helen with us on a vacation once. After visiting attractions in Southern California, we went up north to see Grandma Mary.

            After Grandpa Ralph died, Grandma Mary would save her money and take trips each year.  I remember her sending home material from Scotland.  With the fabric, my mom made matching outfits for Kayla and me.  Grandma had also gone to Russia, China, and Alaska.  I don’t know how many cruises she had been on. 

            Both of my grandmas had gone to Yellowstone with my family just before my mission. And mom and I have taken trips with Grandma Mary to Alaska, Yellowstone and Grand Canyon.  

                                                Grandma Mary & Grandma Helen

                                       

                                             Kayla, my mom and her mom

            Grandma Helen passed away shortly after I returned home from my mission.  Grandma Mary passed away while visiting my mom.  Roland and I had been married only a short time and I introduced them while she was in the hospital.  When we returned for a second visit, her mind was elsewhere and she didn’t recognize me anymore. 

                                            me, my Grandma Mary, mom  - Alaskan Cruise

                                                me, Grandma Mary, mom - Juneau, Alaska
                                                            shooting the Mendenhall

                                                     Grandma Mary and I at Yellowstone park

            We have grandmothers who are not biologically related.  Jenna calls our former next door neighbor “grandma”  and I remember when Ellen and Kimball were little they befriended their next door neighbor as they would a “grandma” and thus she was invited to birthday parties and such along with the biologically related family members.

                                                        Jenna with neighbor grandma

            I love my book from Ester.  I enjoy the memories that it has triggered.  Those are just some.

Jukebox Memories

         I read this piece of trivia: “On November 23rd, 1889, the jukebox was invented by entrepreneurs Louis Glass and William S. Arnold. They called it the nickel-in-the-slot phonograph which is possibly the least effort we've seen put into the name of a product ever.” and was reminded of having seen jukeboxes on occasion.

        Jukeboxes weren’t as popular when I was growing up, as I believe they were when my mom and dad were teenagers. But I do remember some restaurants featuring a single jukebox and one restaurant that allowed you to make selections from the table.  I also remember spending quarters (not nickels) for making a selection of up to six songs.  I don’t recall ever dancing to my jukebox selections – just having the music in the background.

            There was a jukebox at Snelgroves for a short time while I worked there.  Mostly members of the staff who would crank it up while claiming to work would play the same 4 – 6 songs over and over again –.  I was getting so sick of listening to the same selections night after night.

            And then one day the owner’s daughter asked my brother to find some replacement records for the jukebox – she requested that he make his selection of 50’s and 60’s music.  I remember going with him and allowed myself to help him pick them out.  It was great – because no matter what song was selected to be played, it would be one that we both liked.  

            The staff (mostly young kids still in high school) didn’t seem happy with the new selection.  I don’t think any of them knew that Corey and I (well, mostly Corey) were responsible and I didn’t say anything except that I liked the new selection as I was tired of hearing the same 4 – 6 songs which we didn’t keep (as I recall)

            My memories of jukeboxes are mostly fond.  I think it was a great invention.  They’re still around in some places.  But now so many have music programmed onto their cell phones and other electronic devices that they hold in the palm of their hands, it makes the jukebox seem really rare.

40 singles is exactly how many the standard jukebox used to hold.  It has been speculated that this is why radio stations often introduce the “top 40” rather than another number – like 50.

Where’s My Rain?

         So often the weather forecast promises rain – and there are a few drops.  Sometimes we have showers that last almost twenty minutes.  Jenna and I will sit under the carport and watch the rain.  I love rain. 

         The promised rain always goes somewhere.  Often it is not received as a good thing.  It has caused the earth to moisten to the point of mud slide causing extreme financial damage – not to mention has left some homeless.   Or having I-15 close – in the dessert of all places.  That’s just mind-boggling.

         For me personally, Rain has always been a positive thing.  As I mentioned in this post, at least half my family vacations involved rain – not that we had planned it that way.  Dad always helped us to make the best of it, and we learned to accept and enjoy.

         I have fond memories not only of places that I’ve been, but the attitude of those that have surrounded me.  We always had fun in spite of the rain or because of it.

         There are several times I have taken my umbrella and have not needed it or purposely didn’t take it with me because I wanted to welcome the moisture.  Each time the forecast says “rain” – there is, but always elsewhere.

         I had planned to go to Kayla’s on Monday – right after I dropped Jenna off at school.  That day the wind was blowing – getting ready for the supposed expected storm.  The air was cool.  I might have enjoyed it, except for some reason it seemed all my energy (which lately isn’t a lot) had been sucked out of me.  I was so tired.  My presence wasn’t going to do either Kayla or the children any good.  And so I went home and slept.

         Yesterday morning was overcast – but hot.  And not a humid hot.  A dry hot.  Like when you are standing too close to the vent and it shoots a warm dry air up your body.  I found the thick heat to be smothering.  After I left Jenna, I got on the bus headed toward Kayla’s house.  When the bus turned the corner, black clouds had filled the air.  I could get rained on, I had decided.  And I welcomed the rain – though my backpack didn’t.  I hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella to keep my backpack dry.

The rain had stopped by the time I got off the second bus. By the time I left Kayla’s house, we couldn’t even prove that it had been raining - well, except for my overly damp backpack.

This morning seemed fair.  I wore a light jacket.  It came off before Jenna and I parted ways.  I am warm again.  I would much rather have the rain than the blaring heat of the sun or the hot dry air that makes me feel like I’m trapped in a sauna and can’t ever get out.  Why do people pay to sit in saunas anyway?  I know from experience that it is less costly just to sit in your car – particularly if it’s a dark one. 

Memories of My Dad

            As Jenna and I were walking toward the school this morning, there appeared to be a car backing out of a driveway.  She took my hand and gripped onto a little. 

“Death Grip?” I asked jokingly.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

I told her that her grip was really nothing but related the accounts of my dad’s “bone-crushing” death grip.  We called it the death grip anyway.

As a child, I had always thought that my dad’s hands felt clammy.  Yet he was always holding the hand of one child or another.  He did it out of love and responsibility.

By the time he was in his early 50’s, my dad had been the victim of several strokes – many which went undetected, as they were considered “mild”.  But with each stroke came the lack of communication between his brain and his muscles.

His speech slurred more with every passing stroke – and although he knew exactly what he wanted to say, his brain didn’t send the message to his lips and tongue as quickly as it needed to. 

Dad was very unsteady on his feet, as his legs weren’t getting the signals from his brain about how he should move.  But he never lost his grip.  In fact, I think it increased.  He would hold onto things (people included) with every ounce of fiber that he had – and then some.  It would not have surprised me at all if he had sent one of us to the doctor for phalange repair. 

If I was the one he was gripping (stopping the blood flow in my arm or hand or what have you) I would stop dead in my tracks and say,  “We are not moving any further until you ease up on your grip”

He would just laugh and start to drool (again the mouth wasn’t getting the message from the brain).  Who would have thought that those would provide pleasant memories for me later on down the road?

Jenna also asked about my dad’s whistle.  I am certain he lost that ability perhaps with the first stroke.  I actually don’t remember when was the last time I heard my dad whistle.

He had a whistle louder than any other I’ve heard from any human being.  He would put two fingers between his lips and let out a whistle that could be heard from anywhere in the neighborhood.  That whistle was a sign to all of his children that it was time to come home – or sometimes just to know where we were.

           

Dad’s whistle soon became a recognized sound to many friends, “You’re dad is calling.”

I don’t remember ever being embarrassed by it.  I think overall I was impressed to be related to such a quiet person who possessed this loud gift.  And I am impressed, too, when I think of all the strength my dad held in his hand up to the end.

Visiting the Magic Kingdom Before School Starts

There was one year when Roland seemed to make more money than in previous years or even the ones that followed.

He had managed to find a package deal through a travel agency and took us all to California just right after Christmas.  The boys were out of high school for the holidays.  Jenna was two.

I have heard that between Thanksgiving and Christmas is the best time to visit Disneyland.  From personal experience, I know that between Christmas and New Years is the absolutely worse time to go.

I remember riding the tram the first day we went to the park.  Jenna’s enthusiasm at riding the tram from the parking lot to the park was awesome.  All four of them were excited and enjoyed every moment.

I’m not exactly certain why we had driven or taken the tram.  We spent two days at the park.  As I recall we just walked to the park the second day.  I know Richard and I went back to the hotel about four hours before the boys did.

While all three of her brothers still have fond memories of that vacation, Jenna does not remember.  Thus Roland decided we’d take her back this year.  I made reservations so that we would be gone during the last week of summer vacation and would come home just one day before school starts.

Corey had given me the name of a motel where he and Joh stay when they go to Disneyland. I had booked us at the Rainbow Inn thinking it was the same. Halfway between Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm.  I had thought of going to both;  I thought that Jenna would enjoy the Timber Log Ride as much as I had.  I did not realize that KBF had become a roller coaster park – that Jenna would have loved far more than Disneyland.  And I hope that someday she’ll be able to return with someone who is younger and in better shape than her parents are.

First of all we had stopped off in Las Vegas and spent the night at Corey's house.  I am the last of my sibs to see his house in person.  He went with us to downtown Las Vegas.  We went to the MGM where he works and then to M&M World. He said it was the first time he has ever played tourist since he's lived there.

We had a two-day park hopper. We spent both days at Disneyland doing mostly what she wanted.  I thought we should walk to the other end of the park and start with Splash Mountain.  Roland, on the other hand, decided to hit every show and shop on Main Street –which would have been okay – but we were there for Jenna and she wanted to ride the rides.

That first morning was quite overcast.  It looked like it might rain.  Truth be told, I was hoping that it would.  I know that some attractions close due to the elements, but not all of them.  I recall a year my family had gone to Universal Studios when it was pouring.  We saw everything that was open!  It was great! I was hoping to recreate those memories at Disneyland.

I had told Jenna that she was in charge to choose whatever rides we went on.
 

We headed for tomorrow land.  The first ride she chose was the rockets.  And then Buzz Lightyear, I believe.  We’d gone to Space Mountain for a fast pass and then we went to Fantasyland and made an appointment for a princess package makeover. 

Jenna and I went on the Dumbo ride and Roland took pictures.  We also went on the Peter Pan ride and Pinocchio – I don’t recall having ridden the Pinocchio before.  I’m sure I have, but I just didn’t remember.

Space Mountain had been the favorite ride of our boys.  I am overwhelmed with how much they saw and how many rides they had gone on eight years earlier.  There were so many lines.  I stood in several of them just to get into the bathroom.  Jenna was still in diapers at the time.  

This year was different.  I think I was most grateful that there were no bathroom lines.  During all of my Disneyland experiences, the park did not seem that crowded in comparison. I smiled at many of the memories I’d created in past years and pulled them out occasionally during this year’s trip.

There was one year after Patrick was married and after my dad had passed away and when we planned a family vacation with mom, Kayla, Corey and I.  We were all adults and mom said we each needed to pay our own way.

Corey had told his friend, Jinx, about our plans and we ended up inviting Jinx to go with us.  He was the first one to provide full payment for the trip.

Jinx had worked at Disneyland one summer and knew all of the tricks of getting us around.  Jinx made that trip, I think.  He was always so funny.  I remember his leading us to Toon Town and commenting on some patrons who were walking away from Toon Town doing “that middle of the day walk” when it was so early in the morning. 

We had also spent two days at the park.  The first day we had ridden every ride possible.  The second day we shopped and watched shows and took things very easy.  That really was such an awesome trip.

Jenna had pictures taken while wearing the largest  “Brave” dress that was available.  It was too tight and there were tears in her eyes.  And so she changed to a tee shirt to meet the princesses.  She had her picture taken with Ariel, Snow White and Cinderella.

The next day we returned.  Since we had already seen Tomorrow land and Fantasyland, I suggested we go to Adventure land, Frontier land, New Orleans and Critter land.  I suggested we go to Critterland first and get a fast pass for splash mountain.

As we were going through Adventure land, Jenna noticed the Indiana Jones ride that had been closed eight years ago.  Her brothers had enjoyed riding it.  (It had been under construction the year that Jinx went with my family and I had never ridden it after that) Jenna’s never seen any of the Indian Jones movies, but said it was definitely her favorite ride.  

Roland and I enjoyed the tamer rides such as Pirates of the Caribbean or Small World (the night before) though I understood Jenna’s ambition for the roller coaster rides.  I had always liked those when I was her age.  Sadly my stomach has seems to have outgrown what once thrilled me.

I hadn’t planned on going to Toon Town at all.  The two times I had gone before, Toon Town was so overly crowded that the “Happiest Place on Earth” seemed a distant myth, but it really wasn’t too bad this year.  I think Roland and Jenna waited in line for the roller coaster longer than we had to wait in Mickey’s house.  We did get a lot of pictures.

My original plans included going to the beach – which actually seemed to be the highlight of our last vacation.  Just think of all the money we could have saved if we had started our vacation at the beach.  But we didn’t make it to the beach this year.  We hadn't made our way to Splash Mountain, the Matterhorn or California Adventures. Roland decided that we would cut our trip short and return home early.

He did all the driving.  Spent ten hours or more on the road on Thursday so that we’d have two extra days of rest.  I remember when it would take mom and I 7 hours just to get to St. George.  We would stay overnight and continue on to Bakersfield the next morning.  The speed limit was lower then.  Now it only takes 6 hours to get to Vegas.  But then I guess it depends on who's driving and how many stops are made.

Jenna starts the fifth grade on Monday.  I will have to start my scrapbook pages while she is in school.

Little Reminders

     I decided I would take an early bus and get some snacks for the girls.

     When I first walked in the store, I noticed the display set up for Mother’s Day.  A sign said, “Don’t Forget MOM” Tears welled my eyes as I thought, “I won’t.  I can never forget her.  I wish she were still here with us.”

     After I purchased the snacks I went on my way and passed drug store advertising some kind of Shingle prevention shot – at least that’s how it appeared.  I thought about the commercial that advertises that if you have had the chicken pox the virus is already in you. 

     Mom told me that she could find only three chicken pox on my entire body.  It’s quite unfortunate that the worse case of chicken pox she had ever seen was that of my brother Patrick.  She said he had chicken pox on top of chicken pox all over his entire body.  She said he looked like a little monster . . . or something like that.  That must have been terrible for both of them.  

     I also remembered when his children, Ellen and Kimball were quite younger, they were playing with the neighbors across the street.  There must have been five or six of them total.  They each took turns playing a toy flute or a whistle of some sort.  Gradually all of them came down with chicken pox.

     With each step I took, I could feel my pants slipping and would have to tuck and adjust.  Could I actually be losing weight? 

     The sun’s been hot, but there’s been a cool breeze for the most part.  I continued on my way to the school and noticed that ball fields are being made over.  Season is about to start.  Won’t bother me so much now that I’m not driving anymore.  At least I don’t think it will.

I sat on the first bench I came to.  The sun was too warm.  I moved to another that had more shade. I read a bit as I waited for the bell to ring and school to dismiss.

     Jenna had her first friend-from-class play date and I didn’t know what they had planned, but had suggested some options.  The girls decided that we would go home and they would picnic on their snacks.

 First they jumped on the trampoline while I prepared their snacks.  After two hours I got ready for a date.  Roland likes me to wear make-up.  I also wanted to change into a nicer shirt.