I absolutely without a shadow of a doubt adore my grandparents. ALL of them. I was so blessed to have them in my life for many, many, years. Like most kids, I was devastated when they passed away. I lost a grandparent every year for four years. Aren't memories grand, though? Isn't it nice to close your eyes and remember the moments that mean the world to you?
I was driving to Springville yesterday to run some errands. I ended up on a back road that ran along a field that was being irrigated. I love irrigation. I remember irrigation day with Grandpa Pete. I remember him slipping on his waders and going outside with his shovel to toss the water into the flower beds. I remember my boys being very young and running out in their swimsuits to play in the water and Grandpa throwing water at them with that shovel.
Years later, when I came across this house, we irrigated! I loved it. Many, many, MANY memories of the dogs and kids playing in the water. Every time I see irrigation water, Grandpa comes to mind.
Grandma and Grandpa drank coffee. I was raised LDS so this fact MORTIFIED me as a child. I have since become more rational about coffee drinking. Grandpa got up every morning at 6:00 am. Let me tell you, you didn't go to Grandpa's to sleep in. He would come in and wake me up and I would help him set the table for breakfast. My job was to butter the toast. We would banter back and forth and EVERY SINGLE MORNING he would pretend to pour me a cup of coffee. He would tease me about it. I used to love the smell of coffee because I always thought about Grandpa, but when I was pregnant with Shelby, I walked down the fresh coffee aisle and someone had just ground up some coffee beans. The smell was VERY overwhelming and I vomited PROFUSELY all the way out the door. So ended my love for the smell. (Stupid Shelby)
Every single time I left my Grandma and Grandpa's house, they sent each of us off with a box of Cracker Jacks. I would savor every candy coated kernel and set the toy surprise aside for last. I would wonder and ponder that surprise and loved the anticipation of opening the little wrapper to see what I got. Still LOVE Cracker Jacks. Maybe it's something I'll keep around for my grandbabies.
Grandma taught me to crochet. She had her own "mini business" going for years. She could make ANYTHING with a crochet hook, knitting needles and a skein of yarn. I would sit by her side for hours and she would explain to me what she was doing. We would talk the whole time while she crocheted or knitted. I look back now and think that I probably did most of the talking, and she probably was thinking "I wish this girl would STOP TALKING". But she endured me with the patience of a saint.
My Grandpa Lyn was a tall, slender man. He worked at BYU and was PROUD to be a part of that school. I don't remember watching much television at their house, but when BYU football was on we were glued to the screen. It's one of the reason's that I love football. I don't watch college football, but love, love, LOVE pro football.
Grandpa loved ice cream. When you went to visit Grandpa you could count on a bowl of ice cream sometime during that visit. It was usually Maple Nut. I'm not a big fan of maple, but that didn't stop me from having a bowl with him. He was a health fanatic, but he taught me that a person should eat what they crave. He taught me portion control long before it became a fad. Oh yeah, and he drove a beige Volkswagon for years. I don't know why when I was younger that I thought it was odd, but I did. As I grew older, it was cool. Still can't see a VW without thinking of him.
Grandma Adamson taught school here in Provo. In fact, my kids attended the elementary school that she taught in. Franklin Elementary. She didn't just teach. She developed programs that were used in the school system to help teach the kids. She once wrote a children's book and asked me to illustrate it for her. I remember being terribly flattered that she thought I was capable of such a huge job. We didn't ever end up doing it, but when I sent off "My Best Friend, Ray", to be printed, I thought of how proud she would be.
My Great Grandma Coltrin taught me to paint. She taught me the love of color. I remember sitting beside her for "art lessons". Her paintings hung in many of the LDS churches in the Burley area. I was VERY proud to see her work displayed for all to see. I think that she would like that I went into the creative area. I think my "style" would kind of freak her out. That AND the fact that I do it on a computer. But she influenced me tremendously to channel creativity and make something come alive with color and form.
I sometimes wonder what my grandkids are going to say about me. Crazy is a given. Beloved would be a bonus.
No comments:
Post a Comment