My Grama Joy

My Grama Joy

My Grama Joy died November 19th of this year, less than a month ago. She was 91 years old. 91! About a year ago, she said she was going to live to be 100. I haven't decided if I want to live that long or not. There are days when I just long to be home with my Heavenly Father, but so much here to enjoy, and I don't even have grand children yet. While I slighlty diverted, I will let the words grand children bring me back to the original reason for this post. I had the priveledge of being a grand child to Joy Riske. I am not a writer, so, this will be very raw, but I wanted to record some of my thoughts and memories as I process my very big loss. Her memorial service will be in the spring, so, hopefully, this may help me to grieve and get some "closure" now.

One of my earliest memories of Grama Joy would be riding around in her brown Nova. I honestly don't remember if I wore my seatbelt or not. I do know that Grama took me to many gymnastics lessons, or Montgomery Ward, possibly for some new clothes. Grama was a huge part in raising me and my sisters, as my mom was single and raising us with no shared custody of my father. Grama was my father's mother, which speaks volumes about her character and how much she loved us, since he was really not in the picture.

You know how cars have smells? I don't remember the specific smell of that Nova, but I know it must have had one, because Grama and Papa always had dogs, and they were a part of the family, so, of course, they went for rides in the car. While I don't remember that smell, there are certain smells that will always take me back to Grama Joy. Some, I may never smell again, but the connection is still so strong, it's like I can almost smell them if I close my eyes and think of them. Grama Joy used to always have Rose Milk Lotion. Anyone remember that? Also, the smell of the inside of a Sucrets tin box. A lot of times, the throat lozenges would be gone, and you'd find another "suprise" like bobby pins, buttons, or safety pins inside, but the tin still smelled of cherry Sucrets. Then of course, there's Grama Joy's homemade macaroni and cheese. Papa, who preceeded Grama to heaven, would make us blueberry pancakes if we slept overnight at their house, so I can't smell blueberry pancakes without thinking of them. And what about that candy dish? I ended up with THE candy dish, and it will always be a treasure to me. Yes, I like candy, but there's so much more to it than that. Beyond the sweet smell of Brach's mixed candy, the candy dish tells a story of it's own and deserves it's own paragraph.

I'm glad I grew up in the 70's. I had a lot of freedoms that sadly, my kids just can't enjoy because of the world we live in today. Grama and Papa lived two blocks away from us in the avenues in Cheyenne, WY. We, as kids, would just roam the neighborhoods on our bikes, or roller skates, or just walking. There was ALWAYS a mandatory stop at Grama and Papa's house for "energy" (a.k.a. candy). We never knocked, and the back door was always open. The candy dish, never empty, could always be found in the same spot on that orange countertop. We were never told no to the candy dish, and did I mention that it was never empty? I never saw Grama or Papa eat candy, but I know my Grama had a sweet tooth. Later in her years, the dentist told her she had to stop eating chewy sweet things, but I think people snuck some in for her. At least, I hope they did. :)

I don't remember how old I was, but one year, on Thanksgiving, Cheyenne had a huge blizzard. There was no traffic, and because we lived two blocks away, we walked to Grama's house for dinner. To me, it seemed to take an hour or two to get there. I was a tiny little girl, and every time I would take a step in the snow it would come up to my waist. I remember being frustrated at the walk that normally took 5 minutes, but, I also remember knowing that when we got there, it would all be worth it. Grama and Papa's house was always warm and inviting. We could count on a great meal, of course, but after, hanging out in that HUGE living room (I'm sure it's much smaller now) and watching football, or Peanuts, or the Muppets. One of the sweetest memories I have is when Grama would sit down on the floor in front of Papa's chair, probably after having done all the dishes, and she wouldn't say a word, but Papa would reach down and rub her neck and shoulders.

A few other little and sort of silly memories:

Grama wasn't a talker. Oh, she'd speak her mind if she felt it was necessary, but I don't have a lot of memories of just talking with her. Despite that, I know my Grama loved and cared for me and my sisters. She had other ways of showing it. She always made sure that under our fingernails were clean. I wonder if she dug as hard under her own nails as she did ours. To her last day, I'm sure she had her fingernails filed, and polished nicely. Growing up in Cheyenne, (remember the blizzard?) Grama was always concerned if we had our "undershirts" on. This makes my heart smile.

One last memory. Grama would always bring her left over food from dining out to our house, usually wrapped up in a napkin and discreetly tucked in her purse. Even when she was out with Papa or her friends, she still thought of us.

I will miss her more than I ever thought possible. I can't wait to see her again in Heaven.