Journal Entry... Remembering Grandma.

While driving home from my mom and dad's house on Sunday, I found myself thinking back to my early childhood, trying to remember sights, smells and sounds of time I had with my Grandma Braithwaite. Given that I have such a bad memory, I found myself in tears as the Lord opened some windows of memory for me. I am hoping now that I can remember again.

My first thought was the smell of Little Girl Blue perfume. I have the distinct memory of the smell and seeing it sitting there on the right side of her vanity desk at the end of her bed. I loved looking at the bottle. Even better were those rare occasions when she would open the bottle and dab some of it on my neck, just under my ears. Oh heaven. It smelled just like grandma and made me feel like I was floating on a white puffy cloud.
I was lucky enough to inherit a bottle of this perfume when she died. Yes, I still have it and sometimes I open it up just to smell and remember....

Continuing with smells. Pledge dusting spray. That will ALWAYS remind me of grandma. My younger sister and I spent nearly every day at grandma's house dusting something. Usually it was table legs and couch legs and lamp tables and such. Occasionally, we would have to do all the book shelves and the secretary and the tea cup shelf. (This was done under extreme adult supervision.)

Sounds. I am remembering the black chair. I can't remember if it was leather or vinyl. I am thinking vinyl because it always made that rubbing and stretching sound when someone sat in it. Especially if that someone had shorts on. Grandma seemed to never sit in that chair. I think she rarely sat down! I do, however, distinctly remember her sitting in that chair after she got sick. It was just me and her sitting there. I remember her talking to me, almost pleading. " Oh Shelly, please never get sick. It is no fun at all." She died a short time later.

Another sound that I was granted to remember was the sound of grandpa's toast. He would toast it on the dark setting. When it was finished, he would scrape off the black and toast it again!! Needless to say, when he finally did eat it there was some serious crunching going on! I mention this sound of my grandfather, because I was blessed to remember the silence on the other end of the table. Grandma NEVER complained about this. Not once. Looking back, if I had been in her shoes, it would have driven me nuts. I think I would have yelled for him to eat his toast quietly and burn it a little less.
Grandma never did complain about anything. Ever. I don't remember a single time.

More sounds. Big black bags of pepsi cans in the back yard. Bags and bags of change being dumped onto the table for us to sort, count and roll. Wheel of Fortune on TV.

Sights. I can still see the inside of her treat drawer in the kitchen. Ribbon candy, butter mints and when we were lucky (which was often) chocolate licorice.
I remember a few times that grandma had a snickers candy bar. She loved those. She would take the bar and slice it into about ten pieces, eat one and save the rest in the fridge for later. Oh how I wanted to eat the whole thing by myself!!
I can still see pearly colored beads that could be snapped together and rearranged in church, along with a hanky baby to keep us quiet.
I can see hula hoops, decoy ducks, the clothes line and bird bath.

Feelings. I have strong memory of fear when I was asked to go into the cellar. In her basement, there was a small room dug out that the stored some food items in. It was just rocks and dirt. (It even smelled scary) I never did like that place. I also remember the anxiety when she asked me to go downstairs to find something. She would give me extremely detailed instructions, and yet, I don't think that I EVER found what she wanted when I would look for it. Nine times out of ten, she would have to come to the basement with me after my failed attempts at finding what she was in need of. It was always exactly where she said it would be. It really frustrated me. I really did want to find it for her right away, and save her the trip of all those stairs. I'm so sorry grandma. I really did try.

I always knew, and still do know, that my grandma loves me. I am so grateful that I was so blessed to have her in my life for those 12 or so years. I am a better person because of her.

Thanks for the memories.