Remembering Grandma

You're 21 years old, you're divorced, and you have a four-year-old son. You marry a widower with five children, the oldest of whom is 18, the youngest is six. He and his wife had been very much in love, and he was broken when she died. And, oh, yes, it's 1932, and the Great Depression is underway. This is how my Grandma came into my mom's life.

Ethel with Chuck, Earl Jr., Elgene, Anna Mae and Mary Rose.

My Grandfather

Mom was the youngest of the five children. Her mother, Ethel, died of tuberculosis in 1929. My grandfather was so sick with pneumonia, he couldn't go to her funeral. Assorted relatives helped the family get by. These photos show where the family stood a few years before she passed away:
At some point, Mildred was hired as a housekeeper, then she and my grandfather decided to get married. I have often wondered what their relationship was like at this stage. I suspect there was mutual appreciation and love, if not the head-over-heels romantic kind. But it was strong and enduring.

This is the earliest photo I have of Mildred

Mildred with her son, Jimmie and my mom.

Grandma was unfailing fair to all of the kids.She spent the same amount on gifts for each, down to the penny. During the Depression, she and my grandfather saw to it that the kids ate first. If there was anything left, they ate, if not, the two of them went without. My grandfather baked cakes, dug ditches, and did whatever he had to do to support the family. My grandmother kept the kids and the house ship-shape. I'm sure there was some resentment among the kids (especially the older ones), but when you talked to Grandma, you'd think she had given birth to every one of them.

Things got better after World War II. My grandfather had his own tool and die company, and he and my grandmother did a lot of traveling. She collected sea shells, my grandfather caught a marlin. They went to Florida and out west on road trips. Things went well for them until 1964 when my grandfather had his stroke. He went from being a gentle, loving man, to being spiteful and mean. But grandma didn't complain. She took care of him for the last nine years of his life. She always said, "When you're married, you take the bad with the good. I had a lot of good years with your grandfather." The thing is, when my grandfather had his stroke, she was only 54. And she was on top of her game.

What I remember of grandma in the 60's...her driving us around the country in a big car with tailfins and beige leather seats. Cruising along at 70, her smoking a cigarette and passing slower cars. Her taking us to the store and buying our favorite ice cream...then pooh-poohing my parents when they tried to object. Listening to her records...she had the Coasters doing Yackety-Yak and that song about the War of 1812. And Elvis. And Patsy Cline. At one point, I think it was in the late 50's, she had her kitchen remodeled by a professional interior decorator. It was pink and black.I would love to have that kitchen now.

She was also the family historian. Not just her biological family, but my grandfather's family, too. She kept photos and stories and shared them when we were growing up.

Grandma hung in there until 1996, when she lost her final battle to cancer at age 86. She was getting forgetful, too, and I think she was just plain worn out. But she sure made the most of the life she was given.

Because of all she'd been through, she was not easily shocked. And her priorities were straight. When I was in my 20's and having a career was what it was all about, I used to get frustrated when she seemed more interested in when I was going to get married and have a baby than she was with my job. Looking back, I realize she knew what's important, what is lasting. And how to last.