Day 3 is a Day Late....And That's Okay! (So It's Day 4 Too)

I remember a book that I always thought looked really funny-- sitting on my Grandma Rees' end table when I was probably about 8.  It's title was, "I'm a Day Late, and a Dollar Short and That's Okay!"  There was a cartoon picture on the front of a middle-aged woman with messy hair, a curler or two falling out, wearing a bathrobe and drinking coffee and smiling, but looking very tired.  She looked like someone who would make other people laugh--and feel good about themselves.  When I was a little older I borrowed two of my Grandma's other books that looked funny, by Erma Bombeck:  "If Life's a Bowl of Cherries, What am I Doing in the Pits?" and "Family Bonds, the Ties the Bind and Gag!" I thought they were hilarious as a eleven or twelve year old.  Why didn't we have more of these funny books in our house?  Someone gave me the book "Gym Suits and Braces: A Youthquake Survival Manual"when I was twelve and sick in bed for the year.  Also hilarious.  I was a little embarrassed reading these books.  I knew that they were not great literature, but they were funny.  Sometimes laugh out loud funny.  And I like laughing.

Yesterday and Today Grandma was very sad.  Lately she has been so lonely.  She has lived alone every since my mom got married-- 38 years ago.  But the past few weeks she has been so lonely it has brings her to tears, often.  She has made such hopeless comments about life, "What is it all for, anyway? It's just one big pretense. I just think I should just walk right over the edge."  She has said straight out many times a day that she is just sad.  Before this month I don't think I've ever heard her say that she was sad--- or lonely.  

And today when she opened the door-- tears in her eyes and on her cheeks--I asked her if she was okay, and if she had slept okay last night.  She responded, "My mother just passed away.  I just got the call this morning."  Her mother died 39 years ago-- right before my mother got married and moved out.  It was a hard time for my Grandma.  She loved her mother, who died of cancer, but was only in her 60's.  Helen May or Mae.  Depends on who you ask.  But everyone will tell you she was strong and spirited.  She was a pickle packer and a cracker packer.  In a pickle factory and cracker factory respectively.  Her own mother died when she was just a young girl.  She and her little sister Mildred spent some time in an orphanage with abusive orphanage caretakers.  Then she rode the rails hobo-style with her father until they ended up in Ogden, Utah.  She married my great-grandfather and they scraped by most of their marriage.  They had 8 children-- 5 boys and 3 girls.  They loved to go camping, especially to Yellowstone.  Helen loved to travel anywhere.  Just like my grandma and my mom and me.  

My Grandma Rees, Leona, is the second child, and first daughter.  She helped raise her siblings, and helped her mom with everything.  They sewed little Christmas outfits for all the siblings-- working and laughing late into the night on Christmas Eve.  They made sure everyone had good holidays, even if things were tight the rest of the year.  She was her mother's right-hand gal. Even after she got married (and then divorced) my grandma lived close by or right in their home.  My mother spent much of her childhood in her grandmother's home.   And in her mind, her mom just died last night.  Of course she was devastated.  

I talked with her and tried to help her realize that her mother has really been gone for years.  "I wish I'd been able to meet your mother," I said, honestly, "but she died a year before I was born. She sounds like an amazing woman." 

"Oh, she was.  She was so strong.  And she was beautiful.  She didn't have an easy life, that's for sure." And Grandma began telling me those stories again.  It was good to hear about her again.  It feels safe and natural now to have Grandma repeat herself.

I did make her laugh once today when I reminded her about the fact that we almost forgot to put the sugar in the stolen-- twice! We both laughed about it while eating some of the non-sugar-free stolen and drinking our milk.  I think I'm old enough to like it now.  My Weidaur genes have kicked in.  My Grandma Helen would be proud.  And I think she might be visiting her daughter.  Helping her get ready to move on.  Time to get going.  And we all love to travel.