My earliest memories of my "Grammie", my Dad's mom, are probably somewhere around 4 or so. My Grammie and Grampie came out for Thanksgiving. I don't remember details really, just that they were there. They were kind foreign to me as a kid, they lived in Connecticut, and we lived out west. My mom's parents were pretty constant in my early childhood, but not my dad's. My Grampie seemed tall, and had icy blue eyes. He was handsome, had that funny new england accent, and didn't like to be hugged. He smoked, drank, and told me to "go play in traffic kid" once according to my mom. My Grammie had small, delicate hands, a kiss that always had lipstick, and also, was kind of funny about hugs. Grampie died when I was 6, and I remember we were all sitting at our round table in military housing in California, with those high-backed wicker chairs when the call came. My dad cried a bit.
Grammie remarried a man named "Frank" a few years later, and those are where my real memories of her start. We all went to Walt Disney World that year with her and Frank, and his Daughter Bonnie and her kids, who were about our age. Frank was over 6 feet tall, and had this deep voice. He liked to answer any time you called him with "Yessss?" just like Lurch from the Addams Family :-) He could play the piano like no one I'd ever known, and I remember playing with him a bit. They would come for Thanksgiving, and stay at a hotel. I always thought that was odd, but now, as an adult, I get it. A strange house with kids and pets is not restful. Grammie was a constant long distance Grammie through those years. She would send odd gifts like a 12 pack of different colored lipsticks, or clippings from the paper she thought we might like. We talked on the phone some, she was always interested in hearing about my horse adventures, and didn't understand why I wouldn't take up modeling. She came to my high school graduation, and shortly after that started paying for my college education. She expected nothing in return except for an occasional phone call and thank you note.
As an adult, it was fun to actually get to know her as a person. She was very "East Coast", very direct, a bit impatient, and generally called it like she saw it. This could be a bit grating on the nerves, as we were raised out west and generally didn't call someone "stupid" even if they were acting such. I didn't always get thank you notes off to her in a timely manner, and now I understand why that is frustrating. She shocked everyone in the entire family by moving out here to Colorado not too long after Frank's death. She had never lived more than 10 miles from the house she grew up in, so it was quite a surprise on so many levels. It was also an opportunity to know her as an adult that my brother and I both welcomed.
She had her own one bedroom pad downtown in Colorado Springs. It was a wonderful "retirement village", and she quickly made a reputation for herself. "Winnie" as she was known around there played cards, sharked the men in pool, started the "Born Again Virgins Club", and hosted cocktail parties at her place. She used to joke that "the problem with this place is that it's full of old people". She made many friends there, including Art, who was sharp as a tack right up until he passed at 93. She was full of life pretty much right up to the end. On Hubby's birthday the end of September, we went out to the Golden Bee for lunch, and she ordered a coke with a shot of whiskey on the side. "You get a full pour of liquor that way, if they mix it they short you!"
We're all going to miss her.
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