How will you remember Grandma, Grandpa, Dad and me? My grandmother was sixty when I was born. I like to think that is not really old but to a very young child, it is ancient. I have no memories of her ever running around with me like I do now with Bryce, but I was her ninth grandchild, so maybe she was too worn out by the time I joined the family.
It’s difficult to imagine any of our older relatives ever being young, but when you look at what was written about Grandma in her high school yearbook, you will recognize her in those words.
We all know about her Irish pride. Her Irish signs filled the wall of the hallway outside her bedroom door. “May you be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you’re dead” was one of my favorites.
She was a jokester then, and she still likes to make jokes today, although sometimes tasteless. But I think that is quite common with the elderly. Who knows what words will pour from my mouth in twenty-five years? I know that the nurses and caregivers enjoy hanging out in her room because she makes them smile and enjoys casual banter. This is not new. Everyone always enjoyed being around her as long as I can remember.
What is surprising to even me is reading that “she can talk on any topic at any time.” This I would have expected from Aunt Marian, not Grandma. I know she had plenty of friends and boyfriends, but that was news to me, and I have known her since she was just eight years older than when that statement was made.
But we never really know our parents completely. We see them through the eyes of the children that we will always be to them. I think that is why I have enjoyed learning so much about Grandpa’s life as a young adult. My research has given me a view of the father I did not know, like this yearbook portrays a side of my mother seen through the eyes of her peers.