Winter

Winter

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Thinking of Grandmothers


I was thinking of my grandmothers, it could be that
I was out taking pictures of the Hydrangea that my
daughter bought me for my birthday and it is so pretty.
One of my earliest memories is going outside with my grandmother
and helping her drive nails in the dirt around her hydrangea
so she could have blue ones. I remember the hammer being
so heavy. When I was born my grandmother was only 38.
What I remember about her was her laughter. I spent
lots of time with my grandparents. When I was young
I asked my dad when I started talking and he used to say,
"He didn't remember a time when I didn't talk."
So I remember when my grandpa would get off work,
I would call him at his house, and I would say, " Papa
would you come get me?" He always said, Yes, he would
be there after he changed. " He worked a hard job, delivering
building materials. This is when they used lath and plaster so
he moved it by hand, before they used fork lifts. So I would
spend weekends with them. They had strawberries and I would
pick them and eat them and they had boysenberries and I remember
standing out and eating them, they grew on the back fence. Our boysenberries
are getting ripe and each time I taste one I am transported back to that
fence.

I was thinking about my grandmothers because I ran across this poem, and I am
afraid I am more like the grandmother of today than the one of yesterday.
The Grandmother's Poem:
In the dim and distant past
When life's tempo wasn't fast,
Gramma used to rock and knit,
Crochet and tat, and babysit.

Gramma now is at the gym
Exercising to keep slim,
Now she's golfing with the bunch,
Taking clients out to lunch,

Going north to ski and curl,
And all her days are in a whirl,
Nothing seems to stop or block her
Now that Gramma's off her rocker.
(by Anonymous)

I thought this was funny in sick way. I know that none
of my grandmothers ever really sat down, if they did,
it was to quilt or sew or to visit. That was one thing
I loved about them all was they always had time to
stop what they were doing to visit. There was always
enough time to have cup of coffee or a glass of ice tea.
Sitting on the porch, shelling green beans. They listened
to this silly girl and all of her dreams. Which I may add
is nothing like I ever dreamed of, who ever thought
I would be happy being a farmgirl. Have a lovely Tuesday.

5 comments:

Kessie said...

Oooh, that poem is so true and so sad! I think life's tempo is indeed too fast. I think you're making a good attempt at going back to being an old-timey grandmother, though. :-)

Meg said...

Oh yeah. I can totally seeing you going up north to curl. :P

That poem is so true though. I know so many grandmas like that. You are a wonderful grandma! But see that part about knitting? Guess you better get to it.... Hehe.

Deborah Ann said...

Sounds like you were blessed with great grandparents! The poem is so cute!

I Love Pretty Little Things said...

Aaaahhh...I had a Grandmother like yours. She had time for me, taught me, and loved me beyond limits! I want to be like her and your Grandmother!

Thanks for taking us down memory lane,
Joyce

Dianne said...

I may only be 64 and I truly believe I think young, but I'm honestly more like the FIRST group of grandmothers. Although I do get in the floor with my grandchildren and play with them. We also bake and I'm teaching them to sew. I just wish that I would have known MY grandparents.