Grandma

I was just thinking about how many good memories I have with my grandma (mother's mom). Grandma Nola, who's 82 years old, is responsible for probably most of the good memories I have from childhood. With the chaotic home we were raised in, going to Grandma and Grandpa's almost every weekend was a welcome respite. Grandma was the one who took time to play with us -- the board game Trouble was a favorite of ours, as was Chinese checkers. Laying in Grandma's big bed, watching Carol Burnett or the Mary Tyler Moore show, was pure heaven to us. So was going downtown to McCrory's or Woolworth's, five and dime stores, every Saturday. My grandmother taught us how to wash and fold clothes and how to clean a house, teaching us lessons within the lessons, like how important it is to do your best the first time around, and it will save you from having to go back and do the job again. As simple as she was, Grandma was affirming with her words more than with her touch. If we didn't reach a goal, she would always tell us that all God asks us to do is our best, and since that satisfies Him, forget everybody else. Grandma never raised her hand to hit us not once -- though her 'shame, shame, shame', her way of expressing extreme disappointment at something we'd done, hurt like blows (wasn't often that we heard those words, though). I think my grandma also helped pass on a love of reading to us as well. Her "True Story" magazine and "Harlequin Romance" novels, not the best literature out there, were always around in huge numbers. Other good times we had were raiding Grandma Nola's jewelry drawer and trying on her costume jewelry. We fell out laughing one time when we ran across her 'falsies'! I really love my Grandma, because she showed a little girl love consistently, and her home was a veritable haven, a port in the storm, growing up the way we did.