Grandma Vonda

THIS is my grandmother. She is my mom's mom and lives in an assisted living facility near my uncle. We haven't seen her since my grandfather's funeral (the one that we went to 4 days after Owen was born). She seems to be doing well. My memories of her are sweet childhood memories. Riding bikes in their backyard in their driveway, the way her house smelled of cinnamon and fabric softener. I remember baths in her giant (to me then) pink bathtub and playing with cups and old-school plastic containers in the tub til we were wrinkly and the water was cold. And then she would help us out and wrap us up all warm in huge soft towels and snuggle on us to keep us warm. I remember baking the most amazing oatmeal chocolate chip cookies with her and sneaking dough. She would only let us eat one spoonful because she didn't want us getting sick.
She was (and still is) and very quiet and humble lady. She worked at a high school as a lunch lady and loved it. She wore a shower cap when she bathed and slept with little curlers and a hair net on because she only got her hair done once a week at the beauty parlor and they would wash it there. I remember thinking that was so strange (LOL). And when she got older she would tie a plastic bandanna cap over her hair with strings under her chin to protect it. She loves animals and small kids and loves to be the fly on the wall.
She came to the baby shower my mom and sister threw for me when I was pregnant with PJ. We were so worried she would be bored. But they played the "baby necklace" game (can't say the word baby. If you get caught someone gets your necklace) and quiet little 'ol Vonda got EVERYONE's necklace and giggled and giggled each time she caught someone.

Today we took the kids to visit as we passed through the valley on our way to St George for Mickey's family reunion. It's always difficult to take little ones into facilities because I am afraid of disturbing the residents. But it always surprises me how WELCOMING everyone is to the youthful faces and behaviors of children. Everyone stopped and cooed and asked questions and told stories of their past.
Grandma just giggled and played with Owen taking joy in each smile and little pout he offered. She played with PJ and admired stubborn Amiah from afar (she gets so shy with strangers now).
She teared up a little when we talked about her upcoming 61st anniversary, the first without her husband. His pictures are everywhere and his side of the bed stays neatly made. Although her room does feel more empty without him.
I have to admit, the end of life phase scares me. I fear being old and what that means. I hope my kids will be actively involved with me in my demented incontinent phase.(My mom and her sibs and all their grandkids are very active in her life still). I hope I know who I am still and have hobbies and friends to entertain me while I wait for my transfer to the next life. I hope my hands allow me to still crochet and play the piano and write nonsense poetry, essays and short stories. And I hope that time is gentle on me. Today though, I am enjoying the moments as much as I can. Because it is seeing generations pass before me that make me realize that it is this is the meat of my journey, the part that will make me wise and full of memories and stories for those nursing home moments.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry