My dad's mom died this past Wednesday. It is interesting to me that one of my grandmas died on Good Friday and the other on Ash Wednesday. Probably unlike most people, I remember my Memaw (mom's mom) died on Good Friday, but not the actual date. Each Good Friday I call my mom to check on her, but since it is not on the actual date that Memaw died, the reasoning is likely unknown.
For all my life, my Grandma (and Papa when I was younger) lived in a home in Smyer, Texas, about 30 miles west of Lubbock, Texas. They had moved around a lot when my dad was a kid. My Papa was a geologist and worked in the oil industry before settling down in Smyer near where he grew up as a child. From what I have learned, he worked at the post office some, was the mayor of Smyer for a while, and also farmed, which is what I remember. Smyer is a small town of just about 500 people.
The summers there are warm and dry, leaving a hot feeling like an oven on your skin when you are outside. How I loved the feel of the warm air there, so dry and cozy. The shade of the trees in their yard was wonderful. I spent hours and hours climbing the large trees in their yard. We'd play house and each tree was a different home. We'd read books. We play under the tree singing songs, playing with the old oven, gathering bits of this and that to use as pretend food. Then, we'd wander next door to Grandma Taylor's house (Grandma Juanita's mom) where Grandma Juanita had a garden. When I was little, the garden was quite big. She grew peppers (and we'd get jalapeno juice in our eyes!), tomatoes, herbs, sunflowers, lots of different things. We'd go with Grandma on walks around what she called the 2 mile block, which was a field on the edge of town, just a block away really. She'd take us to the post office to check the mail. Occasionally, we'd go to town with her to get her medicine and stop by the bank. Mainly though, our time was spent outside. On the cooler days in the fall, winter, and spring, or when we got too bored we'd play Hearts or Spades with the cousins, or we'd make card houses that will fill a large room. We all learned from either Grandma or our parents to play 42, and sometimes we were lucky enough to get to play with Grandma. When I was older, she'd let me go with her to the Senior Citizen's Building to play with her friends there. On Sundays, we always rode to town (Lubbock) to go to church, Redeemer Lutheran Church, the church that my great-grandfather helped start, the church I was baptized and married in.
When I was very little, I remember going to my Grandma and Papa's house sometimes with a bag full of dress up clothes. I'd spend some time showing them my outfits and begging Papa for a story. I used to imagine that Heaven was like that (I was 3 or 4 at the time), sitting on the floor listening to Papa tell me stories, how nice it was just to hear him talk. Papa always had lemon drops. He used to give me 3, one for each cheek and one for my tongue. My Papa died when I was 9.
My parents and siblings and I went to visit Grandma once a month, as I remember it. We'd drive the 6 hours after Dad got off work, mostly in the dark. Grandma would leave a light on for us, beds and cots or a sofa made up for us, and cookies in the cookie jar to snitch before we settled down for a few hours of sleep. All the aunts and uncles and cousins would get together for Thanksgiving and Christmas when I was young. All of the cousins would be there enjoying the food, the fun, playing hide-and-go-seek both inside and outside at night. On the Fourth of July, we'd get together to bar-b-que, play, and shoot fireworks either on the street outside Grandma's house or at the farm. One of those Fourth of July nights, David proposed to me.
When I was a teenager and young adult, Grandma and I would talk about books and current events in both society and the church when I'd come for visits.
One summer, before the kids were born, David and I were visiting Grandma and she took us to a festival and to see the house where she grew up. It was almost completely fallen down. I could have wandered around it for hours. She told us about Great Grandpa Taylor and about the farm.
Last time I was with Grandma was this summer. She got to meet each of my three kids. She came to see Allyssa when Allyssa was about 4 months old, drove all the way to Raymondville from Smyer. We went up to see her when Allyssa was one and Grandma turned 80. I was so glad that this summer we took a trip to go see her again. One night, David was at a conference, Kaytlin was asleep, and my older two were with my parents. Grandma sat down and showed me the photos in her albums. She told me stories I'd never heard about before while my cousin Theresa laughed and added bits that she'd heard from her mom, Joyce (Grandma's sister). She told me about silly things that she did with Joyce and her friends before she got married. She told me stories about when her babies were very little. When the evening was over, I wished that I could have heard her tell it again, that I could have written it down, written down the names of the relatives in the photos from when she lived on the ranch as a child, the stories about branding the cattle, acquiring land, school. I had never heard the stories from her before.
Come, Lord Jesus.
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