Grandma Grace

My Grandma Grace died this morning. She lived a long, good, life, and I am happy she will finally be reunited with Grandpa DeOnge, but it is still difficult.

Grandma was often my babysitter when I was growing up. I thought she was a great babysitter. She let me have parmesan cheese toast for dinner (not with dinner mind you, but for dinner) and sometimes I got to watch "Dallas" on TV.

When I was little I loved to dance and my grandma was a great audience. I used to call myself Santana Obey (pronounced Obee) when I danced. I have no idea where the name came from, and I don't think anyone else does either, but she totally went with it. She would clap and demand an encore. I would curtsy gracefully. Well, probably not gracefully, but she made me think so. I still use the stage name from time to time.

Grandma used to let me organize her sewing basket. This may not sound like fun to you, but I loved it. Now that I'm older and have some experience caring for kids, I figure she probably loved it too. I would sit for long stretches of time making sure all the spools of thread were wound up, the elastics were all tucked in, and the pins made a pretty pattern on the pincushion. I still remember the sound the wicker basket made when I'd open and close it.


The fanciest thing she owned to my little-girl mind was her perfume mirror. She had a mirror with a gold rim that sat on her bureau. She kept all her bottles of perfume on it, and I thought it was quite glamorous. I was fortunate enough to be given this mirror when she was moved to a nursing home.

The other thing you had to love about Grandma's house was her condominium pool. I remember my feet baking on the pavement on the walk over there and the sign at the pool that said, "Welcome to our pool. Notice there's no 'P' in it." I remember always fretting about the pool key. "Did we get the pool key yet? Who has the pool key? What happened to the pool key?" I remember the diving board that eventually became a planter box. I don't know if this was because the board broke or because they removed due to an injury of some sort, but it's a very nice if strangely placed planter box these days. I remember grandma making a fuss about what a good swimmer I was. As she got older Grandma didn't always come with us to the pool, but always had a snack for us when we returned because as she put it "there is something about swimming always makes you so hungry." The pool is a memory that not only her grandkids, but her great-grandkids have been able to enjoy.

Notice the diving board/planter. Very nice.



As an adult, it was always fun to watch what a kick grandma got out of great-grandbabies. There was much use of the word precious when babies came to visit. We'd also always get a lot of "Bless your heart."

The last time we saw grandma, just a few months ago, she and I talked about many of these memories. We were lucky to have caught her on one of her more lucid days. We talked about Santana Obey and she told me she loved my curly hair for about the zillioneth time. She told Gary she liked him bald and that she had always thought bald men were sexy. Judging from pictures of my grandpa, I'm going to assume that it's probably true.

While I've known for a while this day would come sooner or later, I always wished for later. I will miss you grandma. Bless your heart.