I just received a call from my mom that Grandma Freda just passed away, nearly a month away from her 92nd birthday. I want to reflect for a moment on Grandma and what she meant to me and what her passing teaches me at this moment in time.
Grandma spent summers with us, and we with her. My mom was getting Montessori certified in California and later completing a Masters' degree and Grandma Freda came to help. She stayed through the summer, taking us to garage sales, arts and crafts and swimming lessons, walking behind us while we rode our Big Wheels and Strawberry Shortcake training wheel bicycle. Taking us on all sorts of culturally sophisticated adventures, from Toronto to the Finger Lakes. And we shared the journey, with Victorian picnics in the "tree house", talent shows, and plays. She walked me to kindergarten. She would return to California at some point after school began. She sat and read stories to us, introduced us to her "stories" (soap operas), ironed sheets, wore great perfume, was the only one I knew to wear a corset into her 80's, always have an offer of aspergum (apsrin in gum form), and soothed her corns and bunions with Dr. Scholls and lambs wool.
She and I had many long talks. She talked me through tough times in high school, difficult choices in college and early marriage. She celebrated my wedding with me and held my new baby Gracie at 6 months. She never was short on wisdom, and never short on wit! She had a great sense of humor, enjoyed a good political conversation, and "never wanted to say anything" but always had plenty to say about it! She loved the music in our home, she loved the academic achievements and every time I met one of her friends when I went to visit her it seemed her friends knew me as if I was one of their own because Grandma told stories, shared pictures, and boasted of our achievements and accomplishments. She was one of my number one fans and quick to forgive when things got crazy and I forgot to be the conscientious Thank-You note sender that she always hoped I would be. Sorry Grandma. If I have guilt, it is that. I know you forgive me.
Grandma weathered an earthquake with me at my Aunt Sue's house. Summer of '92 I think. When I tried to fall asleep that night she hummed to me and ran her fingers through my hair as she had done when I was a baby. Grandma was always humming.
Grandma was the quintessential grandma. Cards for Easter and Halloween! Advent calendars at Christmas and separate Christmas packages! She even sent a gift for my bridal shower and my wedding! I didn't even know people could do that. She would send matching dresses for the three of us girls maybe once or twice a year. She stopped when our age stopped being a predictor of our dress size. We loved the Lilian Vernon catalog amazements that came in the mail. Armchair shopping she called it.
Grandma memories: Benji dogs on the couch, humming birds, alstromeria plant, MIK (more in the kitchen), Jumbles, 14 tooth brushes, chocolate chip cookies (that she wouldn't even eat!), her place in Laguna Hills, Christmas and Thanksgiving trips in college, my 22nd birthday with Grandma, her cool soft skin, Oil of Olay, Jean Nate perfume, music from The War Years, dancing, Old Town San Diego, red cabbage, German pancakes.
She was an example to me of etiquette, proper carriage, and finest hostessing. She never pumped her own gas, never wore jeans. All of her pants ("slacks") had sewn creases down the front. Never wore sneakers, the closest she got were her white Hush Puppies. At her dinner table, never a jar or container--only serving bowls and trays. Warmed plates were a must. Desert at every meal. But not too much or too late--you don't want the "golly-wobbles"--what she termed the nightmares from over-eating late at night. And heaven forbid, you might grow "healthy" or "solid"--her term for anyone over 99 lbs.
Grandma never had a job after she was married but she always dressed in buttoned suits, both pant and dress suits. She was the smartest dresser! Although she volunteered for many causes, at the hospital and for her church, she kept a tight social calendar--always going to see a show, and traveling often when she still could. She enjoyed a great board game, or Yatzhee or Scrabble or Tile Rummee, and taught me to play solitaire clock style.
Grandma was perfect at her greeting cards, thoughtful, kind and like clock-work. Although I have some aversion to remembering cards and significant life milestones like birthdays and anniversaries, she never failed. And not a holiday or birthday passed where I received a card and it meant the world to me that she continued to remember me in that way.
Grandma always "thanked the Lord" and was quick to "count her blessings." She recognized God's hand in all things and never failed to say her prayers and keep her faith. She loved her family. Oh she loved us all. One woman, two daughters, five grand children, eight great-grand children (nine, did she know?). We were her life. Single for 37 years, she is now with her husband again. I bless their reunion with the peace that only the presence of God can bring.
I will miss her. Her passing flashes me between kindergarten, junior high, graduation, college, marriage, and early motherhood. I am reflecting on how quickly it all passes. How fast babies become children, who become adults, who become mothers, and mothers to grandmothers, to great-grandmothers. I also am reflecting on how I feel and I think of how my children feel about my mother, and about me. How they identify their life experience around me, my habits, my actions, my comments, my advice. Grandma Freda blessed the lives of many because she cared, she loved, and she made a point out of expressing her care.
This life is but a brief moment and the eternal path of our existence. My wish is that I can be on purpose in my demonstration of love and care. Be a consistent beacon of wisdom for my posterity, and be at peace with myself and God. There's a word here I'm looking for that I can't place. It's a word that describes the stability of the cycles, or the seasons of life. If you think of it tell me. I've always craved that predictability of the seasons--of life cycles--and with her passing, I want to carry that in her honor.
Here's to the memory of Freda Martha Moch Colley, b. June 18th, 1917; d. May 7th, 2009.
May her legacy live through her posterity.
I love you Gramma.
