Grandma Brown

There's just so many things I associate with that name. Her laugh. Her smile. The Folgers instant coffee. The way she would always pop a mint in because one time I told her she had coffee breath. Mainly, memories from her place where I kinda grew up. Hot summer days, sitting in the living room with a cool breeze coming in the door while we were watching or listening to a Tiger's game. Playing countless games of "ghosty" baseball in the backyard with my brother. Swinging from, climbing or raking huge piles of leaves from the big maple tree out front. Tinkering with things in my dad's (was grandpa's) shop out front. There are some memories of her homeschooling us, but as I've been told my grandma and I didn't see eye to eye on the work that needed to be done and we butt heads on that, so I think that's why I don't remember a lot. The most memories of all had to do with the kitchen- from helping can or freeze food, to the annual event of making all our baked goods for the fair each summer. I have so many fond memories of her helping us create the nicest looking cakes, cookies and pies. I can still see her showing us how to carefully pour the pumpkin filling in and it comes back to me every time I see a pumpkin pie. And the birthday cake. The banana, 2-tiered cake with powdered sugar frosting and walnuts to decorate it in the number of years that sat on her silver stand.

She was a stubborn, strong, dear, sweet old lady that I didn't come to realize until it was too late. I remember that day where it all started. She had been taken to the hospital where we then found out she had cancer and things looked pretty grim. My mom read in her journals later that she had suspected it, but never mentioned a thing. That's how she was. I remember visiting her in the hospital and my pastor and my best friend's dad coming to comfort us and pray with us. It just seems like another lifetime because her dad is with our Lord now too.

It was a year long battle with ups and downs. I saw my parents take care of her with so much love and respect. It's been 14 years, but I remember the day like yesterday when I was notified that she had passed away in the night. There were no goodbyes. I used to often wonder which way is really better? A quick or drawn out event? I resolve that neither is better. They both stink! I also often wonder if I ever told her I loved her? The Brown side isn't that lovey dovey family and I don't think I did. I can only hope she knew it even though I never said it. And now, oh how I wonder what she would think of me? What would she think of my family and the choices I've made over the years? Each year around Memorial Day we go visit the gravesides of those loved ones who are gone. It seems silly to some, but just being there brings back memories because there were those years past that some of them used to do the same thing with us.

Oh how I wish my children could have met her, but the memories live on as I bake them her bread and banana cake. And better yet- they have their own "Grandma Brown". I remember early on how my mom didn't want to be called that because that's what Grandma was called. While Kenzie was going through last names, she asked me today "Is my grandma, Grandma Brown?" And I said yes. Yes, she is. It's funny how history repeats itself. I was homeschooled and taken care of by my grandma and now the same thing is happening with my children. I'm so blessed to have such wonderful, godly parents who I can trust to help teach and train my children. I hope so much that they will have such love and adoration for their Grandma Brown as I did for mine. If the past few years have been an indicator, well then I think they're on the right track. I felt very much like chopped liver when they found out Grandma couldn't spend the day with them and they were stuck with mom.