HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRAMMA!

Happy Birthday Gramma!

October 29^th. That date always makes me smile. It is my Gramma’s Birthday… well, it Was. She has long-ago left the living side of this place we call Earth. But every time I see that date it makes me smile. I still wish her a Happy Birthday every time.

This Gramma I refer to is My Mom’s Mom. Ironically, this is the one I call ‘Gramma’, not the proper “Grandma”.  Why is this ironic? Because My Dad’s Mom was actually more casual in most ways, yet I called her by the proper of “Grandma”.  The one on Mom’s side was often the one who was VERY Formal…Well, some times. It really does make me smile to consider her more ‘formal’, because in the ways she connected with me in life, and why she was so important usually were all the times she was less-than formal. (Far Far less than formal!)

You know, it really is ironic. Gramma was often the most formal person I ever knew. She was a high-society, Country-Club (Golf, not boots, hat, juke-box style), world-traveling, Pearl and Diamond wearing High-class lady. She was the one who felt children should be seen, and not heard. She was the one who was all about the image, the way others perceived you, the standing in society, the finer-things in life. She was the one who had formal dinner parties where the men wore their finest suits, and the ladies wore their heels and pearls, with obligatory shrimp-cocktails, and proper silver at each place-setting in her formal sparkling dining room, under the crystal chandelier.

Why is it Ironic? Simple: While she was all that, she also knew how to be The Most Casual person you’d ever meet. She was The one that when the pearls came off, she would be the first to be a nudist. She would be the first to help any person in need. She would be the first to make sure her Grandkids had a Coke, some Triscuits with cheese, and a Banana. She would be the first to volunteer to take a carload of kids to the local amusement park. She would be the first to welcome any of our friends over at any time. She would be the first to allow us to make a sheet-fort in her formal dining room for a sleep-over. She would happily take her grandkids, and any of our friends out to some of the best restaurants… and allow us to be kids. She would proudly introduce us to all the people she knew in her high-society world, yet not be embarrassed one bit to relax, and even be a kid herself.

While she was a stickler for proper grammar, and proper English, she would be the first to speak fluent Pig-Latin at any given moment. While she was the first to promote proper English, she was the fastest with the zingers of any word-play puns. While she was almost hell-bent on anyone speaking any language in America other than English, she was the first to want to understand every culture she ever came across, including learning their native tongue. When at her house, it was not uncommon to hear her interacting with someone of a different culture, and attempting to have a conversation using the language of that individual. She knew how and when to let the rule of Proper English be thrown out. Likewise, anyone who ever had a conversation with her also valued being let-in, and cherished that she would actually want to learn and converse in their own. Yet, they also knew there was a time and place for Proper English in her presence, and a time to allow the native-tongue to come out.

While she sometimes could not let some article of clothing go past her without pointing out a flaw in the stitching, or a flaw in the fabric, or note that it was not properly pressed, properly starched, or any other imperfection, she would also be the first to let us take a pair of scissors to our good pants to make raggy cut-offs at a moment’s notice… then the next day, or later that same day, take us to a store to buy new pants. She would be the one who always made sure we had clean clothes if we stayed at her house, yet the first to encourage us to get dirty in her garden. She would be the one who had an immaculate garden, yet if you watched her after dark, you got the pleasure of watching her go snail-hunting. Yep, even after a formal dinner… if you knew when to watch, you would see her in her dress and pearls, with a flashlight, and an old shoe… she would hunt for those pesky-snails every night, using her flashlight, pluck them with her bare hands, place them on the brick, and smash them with the old shoe!

She was the one who always presented a clean house, an immaculate yard, and the last to ever have a visible clothes-line for drying her laundry. Yet, she hated to waste money running the clothes dryer. On any given day, you would see all the laundry, including the torn-tattered underwear carefully placed on every chair, bench, patio table, the diving board for the pool, the fence-boards, or any other surface she could utilize… but she would not have a visible clothes-line! She did have some discreetly hung lines under the boat-port that she often used, but would never be caught with a visible clothes line in the yard. Her yard was always clean, so often she would even just lay the towels, clothes, etc directly on the patio to dry. As funny as he was about not running the clothes-dryer, she would run it when you least expected, too. She loved to surprise any guest at her house with clean clothes when they least expected it. Often when we had been helping in the garden we got unexpectedly dirty. Naturally we would just strip and go skinny dipping afterwards, not worrying about the laundry, or whether our clothes we had removed were clean, or not. But, by the time we had finished skinny dipping, laying in the sun, and decided it was time to put clothes on again, we always were pleasantly surprised to find that Gramma had gathered, washed, dried, and folded what we had previously been wearing! Any time us kids, or our friends ended-up spending the night, but had not planned on it, she would gather any clothes we had been wearing, and when we woke the next morning, our dirty clothes from the day before were cleaned, dried, and neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Often, we were baffled and amazed by the magic of clean clothes. We often wondered how and when she had pulled off such magic!

In My Blog, I have written more individual blogs which contain references to how much of an impact My Gramma made in my life than I have about any other individual. It is ironic too, that She was so important in so much of what makes Me who I am today. Because, as a kid, I really did not understand, nor realize how much of an impact She made. Only once I started discovering who I am really am, after years of struggles as an adult, did I understand the impact she made in my life. I ALWAYS Knew she was a Huge Part of my life as a kid. I Always Loved when I got to spend time with her. I always cherished the freedom she taught me. I always cherished the acceptance she gave me.

These things, too, are very ironic. The valuable things she taught me are often puzzling, too. She showed me how much importance she placed on how a person’s body looked, yet she was The One Person who Never, Ever made me feel uncomfortable about my body. She was the one person I never had to hide Anything from, yet she was the first to condemn a person for so many things they would do.  She was The Only Person I never felt ashamed in front of, no matter what. She was not at all worried, or condemning toward me on things I would be mortified to ever allow another to see. She showed and taught me Acceptance of another. This acceptance she taught was so valuable, because she showed acceptance toward me in things she openly admitted she was not comfortable with, did not like. She taught me how to learn to love another, even if I did not like what that person did, or how they looked.

But she was not this way toward just me. While she was openly against so many things that did not suit her lifestyle, she also welcomed ANY lifestyle of those who were our friends. She did not always think they were appropriate, and she likely would make those feeling known, But she still welcomed Any we brought into her home. Even those who she made very clear she was not happy about their choices, they were still welcome. They knew how she felt, but she was careful to not push them away. There was an odd respect that was truly admirable.

While I am sure I missed some, Here are some of the Blogs I mention Gramma in… even tho’ some deal with some of the hardest times in my life, there is also fun, love, and some darned funny life-lessons, too. You might find some fun in any one of these!
~The one when I learned My Family moved out of state while I was at camp: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html

~The Joys of Naked as Child… Then Lost: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/joys-of-naked-as-child-then-lost.html

~And of course, the Hilarious Summer When My Grampa and I became naked Smurfs… (Yes, Gramma is highly featured here, too!): http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2012/05/summer-grampa-and-i-became-naked-smurfs.html

There are more references to Gramma in some of the other Blogs, too, but these show much of her character, and some of my connection to her.

Another interestly ironic thing about My Gramma: I do not have a single picture of her. Not One. Many times in the past year, as I am sorting old photos, attempting to get all my past into some sort of organised mess, I ponder why this might be. It is not that there weren't ever any cameras around. heck, I was even a fanatic about capturing everything on film even as a kid! Amazingly, I have very few photos of any of my life at Gramma n Grampa's... yet I spent so much of my first twelve years at their home. 

But, Fitting enough, I happen to have one photo of a Birthday at Gramma's... This one is Me n My Mom, celebrating our birthdays in 1980. I was 12. Mom was... well, a little older. This shows us blowing out our candles in Gramma's home made pies! 

On This 29^th of October, I say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRAMMA!