Summers
03-31-2006, 11:54 AM
This is not meant to be depressing, but my grandmother passed away Wednesday night, 2 days after her 91st birthday, and I have the urge to write down a little something about her. My husband didn't know any of his grandparents; I grew up with 2 complete sets, and I feel really blessed because of it. My grandparents are all really cool people.
My grandmother was born in 1915 in Minnesota. She worked hard her whole life, raised 6 kids, 2 step kids, a whole slew of foster kids, and outlived 3 husbands. She grew up on a big farm, and because of that, her family never went hungry during the depression. They had no money, but nobody did, so she didn't realize at the time how poor they were. She was very close to her father, who never called her anything but "Babe". When they got their first car, he taught her to drive it and she snuck off with it when she was a teenager to race a friend of hers. It was a brand they don't make anymore, but I can't remember the name... Eisenburg, or something like that. She got in trouble, but her dad laughed when she told him she'd won the race.
She once threw a pail of water she'd just fetched from the well at a travelling salesman because he saw her and said, "Oh, she's a big girl! She'll make some farmer a good wife someday." She told me that story again just a couple years ago and it still pissed her off. :lol
She had an 8th grade education, because the only high school nearby was a tuition boarding school that her family couldn't afford, so she began working as a maid and cook for wealthy families in the nearby cities.
In her mid 20s she married a man named George. Six months after their wedding she gave birth to twin boys and the doctor wrote "illegitimate" on their birth certificates. She didn't know until after the first one was born that there was another one on its way. A year later, she had a little girl, and a year after that George left her and never came back. Two years after George left her, she filed for divorce. Divorce was considered so taboo that people who had known her her entire life stopped talking to her because she was a divorced woman.
She met my mother's father Karl when she was working in a hotel and passed by an electrician changing a light bulb. He stopped her and said, "Hold this for me, will you?" and handed her a burning hot light bulb. She dropped it and yelled "Son of a bitch!!" which made him laugh, so he asked her out. They married and had 3 kids, the youngest of which, my mother, was born in Texas because Karl had grown very ill with emphezema and his doctors recommended moving to the Texas coast. When they got to Texas, Karl was already bed-ridden. She set about looking for work to support her family. She went to a cafe owned by a black man and told him she was a good cook and he asked her a few questions. When he asked if she knew how to boil shrimp, she lied and said yes. She didn't know what shrimp were--they didn't have refrigerated cars then and she was from Minnesota. She said, "But I might do it differently from you; how do you cook them?" So, he gave her a funny look and dumped a basket of shrimp into boiling water. She said, "Oh, yes, that's how I do it, too." She worked there for quite a few years, and the cafe owner would give her meat and potatoes and vegetables to take home, saying they'd shipped him too much once again.
Karl died when my mother was 3 and a couple years later, she met and married the man I would know as my grandfather. His real name was Clyde, but he only went by "Blackie". I don't know where this nickname came from, but it's what everyone called him, except for his little brother, who always called him "Boots". I guess he really didn't like the name Clyde. By the time I was born, my Papa had stopped drinking and was a gentle, kind man, but apparently, he was a violent alcoholic until then. I don't know why my Granny lived with a man who would get drunk and hit her. I can only guess that after the poverty she'd survived she was willing to put up with quite a bit to live in a nice 2-story house in town and not have to worry about how to feed her kids. My Papa earned good money as a unioned pipe fitter. He died 4 years ago (or was it 5?).
My Granny was very healthy, active, and alert until just a couple years ago, when she began developing dementia and congestive heart failure. I take a lot of comfort in knowing she died peacefully with people who love her holding her hand. She was at peace with the world and was ready to go. Not a bad way to end it.
Thanks for letting me tell you about her. :)
My grandmother was born in 1915 in Minnesota. She worked hard her whole life, raised 6 kids, 2 step kids, a whole slew of foster kids, and outlived 3 husbands. She grew up on a big farm, and because of that, her family never went hungry during the depression. They had no money, but nobody did, so she didn't realize at the time how poor they were. She was very close to her father, who never called her anything but "Babe". When they got their first car, he taught her to drive it and she snuck off with it when she was a teenager to race a friend of hers. It was a brand they don't make anymore, but I can't remember the name... Eisenburg, or something like that. She got in trouble, but her dad laughed when she told him she'd won the race.
She once threw a pail of water she'd just fetched from the well at a travelling salesman because he saw her and said, "Oh, she's a big girl! She'll make some farmer a good wife someday." She told me that story again just a couple years ago and it still pissed her off. :lol
She had an 8th grade education, because the only high school nearby was a tuition boarding school that her family couldn't afford, so she began working as a maid and cook for wealthy families in the nearby cities.
In her mid 20s she married a man named George. Six months after their wedding she gave birth to twin boys and the doctor wrote "illegitimate" on their birth certificates. She didn't know until after the first one was born that there was another one on its way. A year later, she had a little girl, and a year after that George left her and never came back. Two years after George left her, she filed for divorce. Divorce was considered so taboo that people who had known her her entire life stopped talking to her because she was a divorced woman.
She met my mother's father Karl when she was working in a hotel and passed by an electrician changing a light bulb. He stopped her and said, "Hold this for me, will you?" and handed her a burning hot light bulb. She dropped it and yelled "Son of a bitch!!" which made him laugh, so he asked her out. They married and had 3 kids, the youngest of which, my mother, was born in Texas because Karl had grown very ill with emphezema and his doctors recommended moving to the Texas coast. When they got to Texas, Karl was already bed-ridden. She set about looking for work to support her family. She went to a cafe owned by a black man and told him she was a good cook and he asked her a few questions. When he asked if she knew how to boil shrimp, she lied and said yes. She didn't know what shrimp were--they didn't have refrigerated cars then and she was from Minnesota. She said, "But I might do it differently from you; how do you cook them?" So, he gave her a funny look and dumped a basket of shrimp into boiling water. She said, "Oh, yes, that's how I do it, too." She worked there for quite a few years, and the cafe owner would give her meat and potatoes and vegetables to take home, saying they'd shipped him too much once again.
Karl died when my mother was 3 and a couple years later, she met and married the man I would know as my grandfather. His real name was Clyde, but he only went by "Blackie". I don't know where this nickname came from, but it's what everyone called him, except for his little brother, who always called him "Boots". I guess he really didn't like the name Clyde. By the time I was born, my Papa had stopped drinking and was a gentle, kind man, but apparently, he was a violent alcoholic until then. I don't know why my Granny lived with a man who would get drunk and hit her. I can only guess that after the poverty she'd survived she was willing to put up with quite a bit to live in a nice 2-story house in town and not have to worry about how to feed her kids. My Papa earned good money as a unioned pipe fitter. He died 4 years ago (or was it 5?).
My Granny was very healthy, active, and alert until just a couple years ago, when she began developing dementia and congestive heart failure. I take a lot of comfort in knowing she died peacefully with people who love her holding her hand. She was at peace with the world and was ready to go. Not a bad way to end it.
Thanks for letting me tell you about her. :)