A house filled with love - the basement

When I would stay with Grandma and Pa, I often found myself going downstairs to 'explore' the basement. It was such a fascinating part of their house--I can recall the musty smell by memory. I remember the old freezer and washer/dryer, a shelf filled with canned goods, the far wall that was built up with dirt, and, of course, Grandpa Barnetson's bedroom.

The bedroom was my fave place to hang out in the basement. There were boxes filled with a random collection of things - old clothes, books, some records....I loved to look through these and imagine how they were previously used.

I remember spending time in the bedroom with Lana--she was writing a novel at this time, you see. (At the tender age of 10, I think...) So she would write and I don't know what I did...probably watched her or read over her shoulder.

And now that I have a house of my own, a house that is probably as old as theirs (if not older), I sometimes get a 'whiff' of Grandma/Pa's basement smell. And it brings a smile to my face to remember the days of exploring...

Thanks to God for thoughtful people

Today's post isn't about Grandma, so much as it is about dealing with Grandma's death. It's been three months (tomorrow) and yet I still miss her with as much intensity as the moment she slipped away.

Over the past few days, I've been blessed by the thoughtfulness of others. One of Josh's family members joined us for lunch on Saturday, and before she left our house, quietly slipped me a card. In the bustle of cleaning up the kitchen, I forgot to open it, and it was left in the living room on our coffee table.

Yesterday, as my thoughts turned to how much I wanted to speak with Grandma, I remembered the card that Patti had left for me. Her card was extremely thoughtful - she included a poem (that I will post up here at a later date) that was so beautiful, and brought me to tears.

Today, again, when I was feeling low and looking at my picture of Grandma taped to my monitor, a colleague popped into my office with a small gift. She had seen it someplace and had, apparently, thought of me and bought it. She handed me the gift, a children's book, "Hello Grand Mamoon!" by Donna Steinmann. The book is about a young girl named Tula, who's Grandmother had recently died...and how she finds comfort in looking at the woman in the moon, knowing that her Grandma is watching over her.

Today, I give thanks for the thoughtful people in my life. I am fortunate that they would take the time to think of me in this way.

Peppermint halo up 'yer nose!

I was reminded this morning about Grandma's affinity for peppermint halo and lavender oils...I remember that she would often have a Kleenex in her pocket that had been dabbed with oils for her to sniff when her sinuses were bothering her.

One time, during a visit at her place, she was dabbing it under her nose-I think her sinuses were acting up. She got a bit carried away and ended up snorting the oil up her nose! How she laughed at herself for being a 'snorter'-I can remember it clearly. We giggled about this for a few weeks after it happened, during our phone conversations.

It's important to remember the GOOD memories, right? Helps to erase the memories of the days in the hospital....

Grandma's teddy bear

SO, I ended up with one of Grandma's many teddy bears. Mom gave her this one after Pa passed away-it's dressed up like an angel with wings and a halo. When it was new, you could squeeze it and it would recite a sweet poem about going to sleep with angels watching over us....Very cute. Over the years, the bear stopped 'talking'-the battery probably died.

Since then, I've slept with it....I've talked to it, I've yelled at it--for some reason, this bear has become a source of comfort to me. (Yes I know, it's like I'm 5 again!)

One day last week, I had a really sad morning. I was lying on my bed, praying to God for strength and comfort...I had the bear squeezed between my arms. Out of nowhere, the bear 'spoke' again. And since that day, and every time I need to hear it, I squeeze the bear and she reminds me that I have angels watching over me.

I'd like to think that Grandma is one of those angels.

A house always full of love - the 'loo'

As a kid, I loved exploring Grandma and Pa's house....the basement was a special treat, but more on that later.

For whatever reasons, I have a number of memories of the bathroom. Weird, I know. I remember having baths in the super-deep tub when I slept overnight; Grandma would fill the tub with warm water and bubbles. I remember a canister filled with lovely soaps that I would play with during tub time. There would sometimes be a little vase of flowers from the garden on the counter by the sink (was the vase made of green glass? or maybe it wasn't a vase, but a drinking glass?) I want to say that there was a silly poem that was hung up in the bathroom, in later years, a take on a traditional Scottish poem, but with an ending about "keeping yer big mouth shut"? I think someone bought this as a joke gift for Pa???

I loved spying out the window of the 'loo', watching Pa tending to his garden. Sometimes, a faint smell of the sweet peas would waft in with the breeze...and in the evening, crickets would sing.

I remember the gurgling sound the sink would make. I remember hearing Pa in the bathroom, clearing his throat, and how much we made fun of him for it.

I remember, being probably ten or so, after eating spaghetti squash at the Ebdons (I think), throwing up in the sink (I was occupying the toilet at the time)....I was so scared that I was going to get in trouble. But Grandma took me into her bedroom to lie down and Pa cleaned out the sink without (much) fuss.

I will admit now that I sometimes looked under the sink-I was curious to know what Grandma and Pa used...I remember his shaving equipment and her hairspray and rollers....toothpaste and toothbrushes...and denture cream! I think it took me a while to realize: a) what dentures ARE and that b) Grandma and Pa had them. (But old people used dentures and my Grandparents were NOT old, in my mind!)

As I got older, my thoughts of the loo moved from the objects in the space to how a family of six managed to share the space. There was no shower! There was only one toilet! WOW! I suppose that, back then, people weren't as caught up with vanity as we are now? I do remember Grandma mentioning that the girls would wash their hair in the kitchen sink, so a shower wasn't needed. But still--one toilet for six (seven) people?! My goodness, we are fortunate these days.

This is a good reminder for me, on the days when I think one bathroom for two people just isn't enough! Grandma was able to manage a house filled with bustling kids and it all worked in the end. So perhaps it's not about how big your house is, but about how much love you fill it with....

Sunday Story-time with Grandma Hen

We all had our own special times with Grandma. Over the last few years, I liked driving out to see her on the weekends, mainly Sundays. While I never gave these visits a title, I will hereby refer to them as "Sunday Story-time with Grandma Hen".

When she was feeling up to it, Grandma would head down for Sunday brunch at noon and would usually get back up to her apartment by 1pm. I would try to time my visits so that I was there just in time to hear what was on the menu for that week. I always prayed she would be served her favorite--waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. (When she first moved into Hallmark, I would go to brunch and sit with her table of ladies--I remember the first time we went together, we got the waffles and they were very good!)

During our visits together, I would usually make each of us a cup of tea (sometimes Grandma would just prefer hot water) and we'd delve into Grandma's stash of sweets or, when we were feeling healthy, digestive biscuits.

What did we talk about? I have to say that I didn't spend a lot of time talking about myself-by my choice. Instead, we'd spend time talking about her youth-about living in Glasgow, her family, her job and her friends, meeting Pa...I think these were the happiest times of her life-she was always smiling and laughing when she'd tell me her stories. Of course, we'd inevitably end up talking about the bad food at Hallmark, or the silly 'old people' she lived with-I think she liked to vent about it. But I'd always do my best to steer the conversation back to happier thoughts--to her own baking, to her garden, to some of her favorite tv shows or books she was reading.

I don't know what it was about spending this time with her, but I would always come away feeling relaxed. Calmer. I would often yawn during our visits--not because I was bored, but because I was just feeling so mellow and happy--and she would always tell me that I needed to sleep more! I think she worried about my sleeping habits-so if you can see me now, Hen, you'll know that I wasn't lying-I actually do get my 8 hours!

These are some of my favorite memories of spending time with Grandma...which makes Sundays extra hard days for me. Humans are creatures of habit, as they say, and my body is still trying to comprehend what has happened to my Sundays.

But as Grandma would say, my Mom is my best friend, and so I'm hoping to spend more Sundays with her. (Little does she know!)

I think Grandma would like that, don't you?

Grandma's Kitchen, continued

This Tuesday - a bittersweet day in our house - our new IKEA kitchen arrived (in boxes, of course) and I am flooded with memories of Grandma and Grandpa redoing their kitchen when I was about 10 or so? I remember the new cabinets, sink, stove, fridge, and thinking it was all so exciting. I was there the day they installed it and I shopped with Grandpa for that toaster oven they both just loved... didn't want to get a microwave at that point, he wasn't sure he cared for that kind of stuff, he said. But the toaster oven was prized. Grilled cheese sandwhiches, yummy.

I am also struck by how Grandma did so much with so little. I think I remember their kitchen installation so much because I cooked with Grandma so much when I was there. I remember laying out the bread on the new countertop and thinking it was so much easier to clean than their old one. I also remember Grandpa saying that he was the dishwasher in the house, and they didn't need a machine to do it. Hmm. It strikes me as I think of installing our new kitchen how much more gadgets we have now and so much more convenience but our meals are so less complex than they used to be. I complain about my counterspace - hence the island we bought - yet Grandma had very little counterspace and managed to do a lot with it. Of course, she also had a window over her sink, something I miss desperately in our townhouse.

So I am inspired to do much with my little kitchen. I, of course, have a microwave AND a dishwasher but maybe Grandpa will forgive me these luxuries =)