I'm pretty late posting this blog today. I've been down to the Valley and just got home. As I drove down and back, past Four Peaks, the Superstition Mountains, and the dessert I grew up in, I thought again about all the history, memories, and wisdom I learned from my grandma Russell, whose stories I have been retelling the past few weeks. She was a grand lady, and I owe her much more than I realized before now.
Grandma died when I was 19 years old. She had been sick with dementia for a long time before that. Consequently, I have to go back into my early childhood to remember who she really was. You know, the thing that stands out most is how every time anyone asked grandma how she was doing, she always answered "Wonderful! Isn't it a glorious day?" I don't suppose she always felt wonderful, and I bet she had some really rotten days, but she lived and breathed enthusiasm and optimism. I guess that's where dad acquired his oft repeated saying, "Act enthusiastic and you'll be enthusiastic." It's true.
My memories of grandma mostly revolve around summers spent with her and grandpa up at the cabin. I can still see grandma sitting by the front window, stitching together braided rag rugs, sewing on her old treadle sewing machine, or working on genealogy or scrap books. In the evenings grandma loved to play scrabble, she kept a dictionary on the table to check out unusual words grandpa claimed were real, while we ate her delicious strawberry rhubarb pie that was to die for.
After all the delightful memories of early Arizona grandma shared with us, she gave me my own delightful memories of Arizona that I will always cherish and adore. Thank you grandma. I love you!
No comments:
Post a Comment