Tomorrow, April 7, is my grandma’s 90th birthday.  So I’m taking another detour and writing this post for her.

I can’t even begin to help you understand how important my grandmother is to me.  I had a wonderful childhood.  My parents were, and still are, great people.  All I remember is fun.  And that’s exactly what childhood should be.  I was lucky enough to have also a second set of parents…my Grandma and Grandpa Scott.

Unlike many kids, I was fortunate enough to have young grandparents.  They were just into their 40’s when I was born, close to the age I am right now.  That alone blows my mind.

I have so many memories of time spent with both of them.  There were endless days of fishing, riding horses and tractors, playing on the farm, gardening, working cattle and playing all kinds of sports.  My grandma could throw a mean left-handed softball.  She could always strike my grandpa out (and he loved that.)

I spent nearly every Saturday night with my grandparents.  We would eat dinner early and then my grandpa tortured me with the “tickling game” (he’d hold me upside down by my feet and tickle the bottoms of them until I would nearly puke). Then he would go to bed.

Grandma would let my sisters and I stay up with her and watch “The Carol Burnett Show,” but we had to keep the television (and our laughing) really quiet so Grandpa could sleep.  Sometimes we didn’t do such a great job with the quiet thing.  But man, we had some fun.

We would wake up on Sunday morning to the smell of Grandma cooking pancakes, bacon and eggs.  Grandpa would already be off to check and set trot lines and take care of cattle.  She’d then get started on lunch as we’d head off to church.

Nearly every Sunday for as long as I can remember, Grandma made fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, homemade rolls served with her own plum jam, and homemade pies.  We would have it after church, as a family, and those meals are still so warm and wonderful in my memory.

We’d play the rest of Sunday away and then have leftovers at my grandparents’ house while we watched “The Wonderful World of Disney.”  I’d give just about anything to go back for just one weekend and live it over with my family, truly understanding how precious those moments are.  Here I am, writing this, getting all teary just thinking about it.

My grandfather passed away from colon cancer when I was 16.  I was devastated and to this day, knowing my grief, I will never comprehend what my grandmother experienced.  I sat on her lap at his funeral and held on tight to her.  I remember feeling like a baby, even though I was almost an adult.  I never saw her cry or heard her say a sad word until much later in my life.  She has so much strength and grace.

She never remarried, but she also didn’t dwell on the tragedy.  She kept moving forward, pushing all of her grandkids to be something and do important things in our lives…to hold us each of us up as she knew my grandfather would have done.

My grandma was forever singing, always holding my hand, telling me she loved me, comforting me through sickness and sadness.  She was always laughing, even at times when my Grandpa was so serious.  There were times at the farm that I actually thought he might leave us out in the field because Grandma would get cracked up over his seriousness, and then all of us (except him) would end up in a fit of giggles.

Today, at Grandma’s 90th birthday party, I was sitting across from her.  So many people were there.  She had a fall earlier this morning and hurt her elbow pretty badly, sixteen stitches worth.  She really didn’t remember falling, and I was sitting there with her, talking and thinking about how I wasn’t totally sure she knew why all these people were gathering for her.  Sometimes her mind isn’t totally as it used to be, not that any of us can say we’re as clear today as we were yesterday (me included).

The lady who helps take care of her came over, patted her on the shoulder and said, “Now don’t touch that arm, Sweetie.  The doctor told you not to push on it too much.  As soon as this party is over, I’ll get you a pain pill.  If I get it now, you’ll get sleepy and not be able to function.”

My grandma sat there for a minute, nodding her head sweetly at the lady.  As soon as she turned her back, Grandma looked me square in the eye and mouthed, “Bullshit.”  Her eyes twinkled, and I burst out laughing.

I love her so much.  She isn’t the same to everyone else as she was years ago, but to me, she’s still Grandma.  She’s my amazing Grandma.  Here’s to 90 blessed years of her making this world a better place.

Hugs and blessings always,

LITTLE JEN in the BIG WOODS