In my old photo scanning I have found a photo I didn’t know existed. But I had heard about the subject of the picture. In fact, I wrote about it on this blog in 2012 and then re-blogged it in 2013. It’s in a story I wrote about spending time with my maternal grandmother. I’ll repost the story here. At the end I’ll post the photo I found because by the end of the story you will know why I thought it was such a great find.
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When I was little I stayed with my grandmother during the day while my parents were at work. It was just Grandma and me at the house. Grandpa worked down the block, at his Sunoco filling station. Every day at noon, Grandma and I brought his lunch to him. He’d climb up out of the pit where he worked under cars and smile when he saw us with his gray lunch box.
Sometimes I played with the girl up the street and other days I’d pick through the toys and books left behind in their bedrooms upstairs by my mother, Aunt Alice, and Uncle Don. I found a giant printing set, a potholder loom and loops, and a collection of miniature furniture and animals. In my aunt’s room, I read my first chapter book, The Bobbsey Twins. Grandma and I fried donuts and sugared strawberries. We sang Ethel Merman songs like “Anything You Can Do.” I could always manage to sing louder and higher than Grandma.
Any note you can reach
I can go higher.
I can sing anything
Higher than you.
No, you can’t. (High)
Yes, I can. (Higher) No, you can’t. (Higher)
Yes, I CAN! (Highest)
Occasionally, we walked “uptown” to the bank, passing the thrift store, which fascinated me. I thought it was a combination antique store and fine dress shop. Also en route was the home of the Purple People Eaters. My overweight, matronly grandmother sang the song and danced right there on the sidewalk for me. It was years before I realized the building was actually a dry cleaning establishment, painted purple.
Grandma carried the filling station’s bank deposit bag in her big pocketbook, which also held mints and pennies for me. We stopped at the florist to say hi to some relatives and at the bakery for sugar cookies.
With all the fun Grandma orchestrated, I still got bored one time. I was in “that mood,” the one where it seems that all is wrong with the world. Grandma knew how to handle the situation. She put me in an old work shirt of Grandpa’s and handed me a paint brush.
“Come outside,” she said. On the back stoop, she’d placed an old wooden child’s chair on a spread-out newspaper. “Go to town, Luanne,” she said. I worked hard for a long time, painting that chair, which seemed so big
When my mother picked me up after work that day, she laughed. “Mom, you had her do the same thing you made Don do to keep him busy!” Even today when I feel “at odds,” this example keeps me working, moving forward through the doldrums.
Grandma did her chores while I was at her house. She cooked and baked and ran errands, which were all on foot or by bus, as she didn’t drive. I helped her and learned at her elbow. She ironed my parents’ clothes, too, while I played at the kitchen table and sang with her. She didn’t waste our time cleaning too much, but everything else got done—and done well.
She devoted a half hour to herself every day, watching As the World Turns while I “napped” beside her on the couch.
Mostly, though, Grandma doted on me and made sure I could learn and use my imagination. She sat me on her lap and told me stories “from her head.” Her attention wasn’t fragmented by a cell phone or computer. She limited her telephone and TV usage. She was completely there in the moment with me each day.
Can we say the same today for our children and grandchildren and the children we babysit?
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Here is the addendum to the story. A photo showing Uncle Don painting the same chair! This would have been about 1941.
I enjoyed this piece. I’m reading it on a day of unscheduled grandmothering and it helped center me.
Have fun with your grandchild(ren), Ellen! I hope my grandmother inspires every grandma who reads this. She is my role model for grandparenting! 🙂
What a lovely story! Your grandmother sounds amazing—I wish I was as good a grandmother. And I love her take on the old Tom Sawyer trick of getting people to paint a fence for “fun.” It’s wonderful that you have those two photos to capture the family history.
Yes!!! Tom Sawyer! I never thought of that, but you’re right. That could be where she got the idea. Tom Sawyer was one of the books I found at her house. And the books were not just my mother’s and her brother’s and sister’s. There were some of Grandma’s books, too, like the Khaki Girls books about girls during WWI.
You are so lucky to have known your grandmother so well. My mom’s mom died when I was 3 and I have no memory of her. My dad’s mom died before I was born.
That is so sad, Kate. Grandparents can have such an impact on their grandchildrens’ lives. In some ways I was very unlucky having been born to a young mother (20 when I was born), but the way I was lucky is that I was the oldest grandchild and oldest great grandchild and didn’t have a sibling until I was 7 1/2. This has had a huge effect on me. But so has the former, my mother being really too young.
Such cherished memories!
Pam, yes they are! I have a few too many bad memories, but everything associated with my maternal grandmother is a good memory!
Oh, Luanne, the best story (and photos) of the day!
Thank you! 🙂 My maternal grandmother was the best!
What a wonderful person your grandmother was! Thank you for sharing her with us.
Thanks, Liz. She was just the best. She’s why I didn’t want to move away when I was young. We also had a lot in common. She was a writer, too, of humorous little stories she published in the Chicago Tribune and Reader’s Digest.
Such a good story, and how wonderful it is that you have both those photos! Of course, even more wonderful is that you had that time with your grandmother and the memories. My grandmothers both died when I was very young. My older siblings had time with them. But my mother’s father used to come and stay with us every summer, and he always played with me and my little sister.
Thanks, Merril. I am so glad you had that time with your grandfather. It really is so precious.
As I mentioned below to Kate, my birth placement had a big effect on me. It was very hard that my mother was so young. She was twenty when she had me. She thought she was mature, but she was 20 LOL and grew up quite sheltered. This was also hard because she was in no position to deal with my father’s issues (he was six years older). Since you’ve read Scrap you will understand how that worked out. However, the good part is that because my mother was the oldest child and oldest grandchild, her having me at 20 meant that I was the oldest child, grandchild, and great-grandchild, not much younger than some of my mother’s cousins. So in some ways my connections are further back than my cousins or my brother. Probably why I’ve ended up with most of the old photos, documents, even heirlooms and was the only one who was ever interested in those who came before. It’s why I’m the one who remembers my grandfather’s aunt and why she was always my Aunt Jen and her husband who I never met was my Uncle Lou. My grandfather shared the family stories with me as if I was his kid. Sorry for the long tangent!