Grandma, tell me a story

My lovely Gram passed away in 1988.  She had striking red hair, blue eyes, and always wore pink lipstick and polish.  She loved the opera, the symphony, and the ballet, and made delicious roast beef and potatoes and homemade biscuits for strawberry shortcake.

 

Grandma Jay passed away in 1996.  She became a widow when Mom, her youngest, was just 5 years old.  Grandma was a nurse in a pediatricians office during the day, and a nurse in the admit nursery at night.  She told us funny stories when we slept over on New Years Eve, and we played Candy Land until the ball dropped in New York City with Dick Clark.  Grandma Jay labored over Berlina Kransers (Norwegian cookies) every December and shared their buttery goodness with us from a blue tin she reused year after year.

 

I lost my grandmas before I had the chance to ask them many questions other than "Can I have seconds?"  Yesterday, a dear childhood friend (40 years old) had a heart attack and is currently undergoing 6 bypass surgery.  How I pray today that she will have the opportunity to answer the questions of her children and grandchildren.

 

In writing my personal history this year, I hope to answer some of the questions I wish I had asked my grandmas...

 

Grandma, what made you happy?  What made you sad?

Did you like being a mother?

Grandma, did you have a favorite season?

Did you like drinking milk? or eating chocolate cake? or cheeseburgers?

Grandma, did you believe in God? Did you pray?

Did you have a favorite song?

Grandma, what did you do when times were tough?

What was the happiest day of your life?

Grandma, tell me about your wedding day! and your wedding dress!

 

Let's be honest, when I think about describing my wedding with big 80's puffy sleeves and big 80's puffy bangs, it doesn't sound very charming, at least not like a description of my grandmas' weddings.  But does that make it less important to my posterity?  Maybe they will enjoy hearing the story about how when I modeled my wedding dress for our neighbor, she thought it deserved more beading and stayed up late in the night carefully applying pearls one by one until it looked complete.  Even if the sleeves were puffy.

 

Start writing your story.  Someone out there, or someone who is yet to be born, is waiting for it.