A Sorrowful Time for Average Jane

On Saturday night, my grandmother passed away.  She was in the late stages of Alzheimer's disease and we'd known for about a week that she didn't have much time left.  The last time she left Florida to visit the family in the Midwest, it was obvious that she had no idea who we were or where she was.

Back in 2002, well before my grandmother's dementia became evident, I wrote down and sent her some of my favorite childhood memories of visiting her house.  I'm now very glad I had a chance to share them with her while she could still appreciate it.  Here are some excerpts:

I remember...

• Playing BINGO at your house, complete with tidily gift-wrapped prizes.  I even remember one of the prizes:  a tiny bottle of pikake flower perfume.  To this day, I still love pikake scent.
• Crafts on the kitchen table.  A lot of them involved beads, as I recall, including various Christmas ornaments.  For a while after the craft that involved crocheting beads onto stretchy metallic necklaces, I had a little business going, making and selling necklaces to my friends in elementary school.  Someday that skill might save me from the poor house, you never know!
• Speaking of crafts, who could ever forget the Beaded Fruit set you gave me for Christmas one year?  I know my mother never forgot - at least not until years later when she finally finished vacuuming up beads, sequins and straight pins from the kit!
• Sitting in your TV room drinking cran juice and eating Oreo cookies - what a combination!  I still consider both cran juice and Oreos a special treat.
• Going to your house on New Year’s Eve and getting to drink a glass of real champagne.  I still have the pictures we took to show my parents, posed with lamp shades on our heads.
• Baking at your house.  The jar of silver nonpariels in your cupboard sticks in my mind, mainly because as a child (and even now), I never understood who would eat such a thing.

My grandmother had a tremendous influence on me in many ways.  She was a newspaper reporter who, along with my late mother (also a reporter and eventually an advertising copywriter), encouraged me to pursue a writing career.  She handed down recipes from her mother and grandmothers that I still cook today.  Whenever I write an article, make a home-cooked meal, play a card game, take care of my houseplants or read a mystery novel, I'll always think of her.

Comments

[kevboy]

Jane, I'm sorry for your loss.

[Jane]

Thanks, kevboy.

[cagey]

Oh! I am sorry for your loss. Having a relationship with a grandmother is such a very special one. It is nice that you realized that and took the time to tell your grandma.

I am going to take a page from your book and send each of my grandmas a list like that.

[me]

I'm so sorry! It's very hard to lose a grandparent, especially one you admire so much. I like that you wrote your memories down for her too - a very cool gesture.

Oh, and I must say the memory you've shared with me of her that always makes me chuckle is the Lemon Pam . . .

[Dorothy]

Oh,man. Your memory list just brought back my own grandmother, who also died of Alzheimer's. I'm so sorry to hear you've lost your grandmother. Although, I do know it is also hard to watch someone suffer from Alzheimer's. It's a horrible disease. I'm thinking of you.

[Fi]

So sorry to hear about your grandmother, Jane. She sounds like she was an inspirational lady.

[Keith]

Jane, that was the nicest of "obituaries" I think anyone could have written, because it remembered the good times.

I remember my own grandmother for her funny foibles, for example, she would only ever walk on the sunny side of the street. She kept chocolate soldiers for me in a large cupboard (well out of my reach), making them appear a bigger treat than they were and I remember on Saturdays, being allowed Jersey milk on my cornflakes (the milk that was usually reserved for her sone Ken). Fond memories really are good for the soul. KP

[Jane]

I really appreciate everyone's thoughtful comments. It's been strange to hear this news and just go on into work every day - the memorial service isn't until this Saturday.

[Daisy]

So sorry to hear of your loss Jane.

[The Misanthrope]

That was a very nice piece on your grandmother, she would have been proud.

My most heartfelt condolences.