Grandma Doris

It's been a busy, hectic, and somewhat difficult last couple of weeks. Busy with traveling to my parents, hectic with a bathroom remodel going on, and difficult because my Grandma Doris passed away last week. She was 92, so it wasn't completely unexpected. But I was still surprised. Jeremiah and I had just seen her the week before, and she was doing so well.

I spoke at her funeral, along with some other family members, and thought I would share my memories of my grandma here as well . . .

I was very blessed to grow up with my grandparents living just down the valley from us. In all my memories of growing up, both my Granddad Charlie and Grandma Doris are there in some way or another.

I’ve only had one babysitter in my life, and that was my grandma. When my parents went to town or had something going on, Grandma would pick us up from school. We were always glad to go back to her house, and often asked if we could stay for supper, even if our parents got back early.

We always found something to do at Grandma’s house, whether that was playing with the Fisher-Price Village, playing in the trees (where each of us cousins had our own special one), watching the Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday evenings, playing dress up with her special clothes upstairs, reading all those Bobbsey Twin books I didn’t have at home, or just sitting down in the kitchen listening to the grown-ups talk or chatting with Grandma when I had her to myself.

Even though we were at Grandma’s house several times a week, it was still a special place. It was a safe place—one where I knew I was loved unconditionally, where if I got in trouble, Grandma would be firm, yet quickly forgiving.

One of her favorite phrases was, “Well, bless your heart.” As I grew older and saw Grandma less often, she would always say, “I think about you all the time, sweetheart,” and I knew she meant it.

As I’ve tried to think of different things to share about Grandma Doris today, memories of food kept popping up. Angel food cake with her special brown sugar frosting, a hard boiled egg always sitting in a saucepan on the stove, that box of Pecan Sandies in her breadbox, leftover frosting sandwiched between crackers. It’s not that my grandma baked a lot—I figure that by the time she had grandkids, she’d cooked and baked for enough family dinners, hired men and hay crews to last a lifetime. But for Grandma, giving us food was one way she showed us that she loved us. By offering her grandkids that pop or little candy bar, she was showing us how much she cared.

And with how much she cared about us, she also worried. In the winter, she would say, “It’s too cold for you to play outside. You might get sick.” In the summer it was, “It’s too hot to play outside, you might get sick.” And while I was in college, Grandma was the only person to tell me, “Don’t study too hard.” One time as I was driving back to school, she gave me a box of graham crackers to keep in my car trunk, “just in case of an emergency.”

Grandma was also devoted to my Granddad. Married for 64 1/2 years, I know she felt lost without him after he was gone. For several years before he died, you’d often hear her on the two-way radio about the same time each morning. “Charlie,” she’d say, “what are you doing?” That was her way of letting him know she thought it was time he came back to the house.

And Granddad was devoted to her. He often told my brother that there were two secrets to a good marriage—finding a good woman and being broad-minded enough to keep her. Well, he found a good woman, and he knew that. When we visited, he’d ask if we wanted to see a picture of his girlfriend—and out would come a photo of my beautiful grandmother when she was around 20.

One of the most important lessons Grandma taught me was the importance of family. Her husband, her kids, her grandkids and great-grandkids were everything to her. The last time I saw her was just the week before she died. Jeremiah and I had been visiting Mom and Dad and stopped by on our way back to Lincoln. Just a few minutes before we left, she told me, “I never was one for going many places and doing a lot of things. I just liked staying home and taking care of my grandkids.”

Thank you, Grandma, for taking care of me all the times that you did. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for blessing my heart.