Retrospectives and San Francisco serenity

In Honor of Grandma

  I found this blog title in my head this afternoon as I had a ridiculous craving for a butter, peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Yes, I said butter twice on purpose. Grandma Shirley used to consistently make these for my brother and I while we were at her house.  I used to find comfort in going there and felt truly cared for and free of the family issues that were happening at home. Grandma Shirley and I have never had a very close relationship.  Many would argue that her mental status has been traveling on the back-side of the hill for many years now, perhaps even a couple of generations. She is caring, neuerotic, confused, and she drove me crazy, but she was loving in her own way.  She would do things like stock pile hundreds of dollars of groceries in the garage, and whenever someone that she cared about came over, she would always make sure that they went home with something that they needed or something she thought they needed.  For example, one year for Christmas my husband received an opened bottle of Tabasco sauce, because she knew he loves hot-sauce.  On many occasions, groceries were not the only things given out- sometimes the gifts were newish, t-shirts, and socks from opened packages of clothing that were purchased for my gramps.   Sometimes she would give these items away for holiday gifts. She always meant well, as my mother would say. A common thread of comfort after she would say something hurtful to you. She always means well. 

  When I was growing up, grandma and gramps gave me lots of meaningful gifts however, that were well received and cherished.  When I was young, our family lost my father.  My mother was struggling to make it on her teacher’s aide salary.  My grandparents were always there to help her pick up the pieces.  When she needed new carpet for my bedroom, they were there.  When I would stay over as tensions became high when my step-father moved in, they would make me special dinners, just the way I liked them. When she needed a new bed for me, they were there.   Grandma was the one to take care of me growing up, making sure I was comfortable after many childhood surgeries broke me and my mom could not afford to take time off of work and school. In my reflections during this time I realize how much she actually did for me when I was growing up.  So, for a brief moment, while I was inhaling this ridiculous craving, I honored grandma and all of the well-meaning  things that she has done for me in my life time.