Grandma Johnson

One of the most important people in my life was my Grandma Johnson. She was my hero for as long as I could remember. Sleep overs in her tiny back bedroom, Swedish pancakes and homemade maple syrup were nearly weekly events when I was little, and we always spent every Sunday evening at her house, visiting. I loved Grandma.

Grandpa Johnson died when I was four years old and Grandma was a widow for 39 years. She lived alone all those years. It must have been lonely, but I never heard her complain. The summer before her one-hundredth birthday grandma ended up in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Afterwords, too week to go home by herself, she finally agreed to stay at my cousin's home. He was a doctor, and his wife a nurse, and it was good for grandma to live with them. I think she was worried at first that it would be hard to get used to living with so many people, but every time I went to visit her she happily told me how much she was enjoying herself, and how fun it was to be part of their family.

We planned a big party for grandma's hundredth birthday, but a day or two before her birthday, grandma got sick again. She was so ill she had to miss her own party. I went to visit her that morning, and she told me she was just as glad to stay home in bed and let the rest of us go to the party, she was awfully tired.

A few weeks later my oldest daughter gave birth to my first grandchild. Grandma got well enough to come to my house one afternoon to see Linnea and the baby. We were able to take four generation pictures, with grandma, mom, me, Linnea, and little Tais. They were so special.

Grandma's Christmas letter to us that year began:

Dear Family,

As the holiday season rolls around this year, I will have the unique opportunity of celebrating my one hundredth Christmas. My first Christmases were spent in Sweden with all the old Swedish traditions....

In 1919, when I came to America, we had many Swedish friends living around us and our Swedish traditions continued. On Christmas Eve, we always had a smorgasbord and Santa Claus would find the children as he does Swedish boys and girls. …. Those were happy Christmases even though along with the rest of the world, we were living through the great depression. Christmases were often short on material possessions but they were filled with love.

In 1942, at the age of 43, I moved to Arizona, where palm trees, cacti, sunshine and balmy weather replaced the cold and snow of all the previous Christmases I had known. The years rolled on, my children grew and soon the annual Christmas Eve's smorgasbord was filled with grandchildren and then great grandchildren. …..

On new Years morning – as the year 2000 begins, I will have lived in three centuries. How times have changed!

The technological progress I have witnessed has ….been astounding...my life has been filled with things I never dreamed of in my childhood.

The world has changed dramatically in the past one hundred years. My posterity is now scattered across the United States …. When Grandpa Johnson used to say, “Look what we started,” he scarcely imagined how large our family would grow.

You are each a part of my Christmas memories and have helped make the past 100 years a wonderful blessing. I love each of you.

That was one week before the end of 1999, and the end of the century. A few weeks later, grandma got sick again. This time she didn't get better, and she passed away at the end of January, 2000.