I have taken away many of life's lessons from my grandparents. I wonder if they even know what influences they are on their grandchildren. From my Grandma Fetter I learned to take a book wherever I go. Now, my grandmother and I read very different books! Funny how this should be the other way around, but my grandma read "romance novels" and I was the one reading the classics! She carried a small book with her everywhere she went and pulled it out in line at the grocery store or at the doctor's office, and I do the same. Uncle Bill recently shared with me that she used to read at the breakfast table which drove my grandfather nuts.
I learned to cook because of my Grandma Fetter, if not directly from her. My mom (Mary's former daughter-in-law) credits my grandma for teaching her to cook. I didn't get to see my grandma often due to distance, but when we used to visit for Thanksgiving, I remember always having lasagna the night we arrived with an Italian salad made with homemade dressing. For Thanksgiving we always had her awful fruit salad because it was Uncle Bill's favorite (except it wasn't). And Grandma always made sure to tell Bill dinner was at 2:00 in hopes he'd be there by 4:00 instead of 6:00.
But I remember best about her house the following things: I remember her animals, all of whom came first from her children, I believe. I remember Molson the enormous black-lab and I remember Ben, who liked to sit on my feet and keep them warm. I remember that Grandma made a tape of the two dogs howling along as Grandma played Christmas music on her piano. Her house was filled with treasures! She had antiques displayed, and always had colored glass in her windows. But it was her basement that drew me. I spent lots of time down there digging through old clothes, games, knick-knacks, and hundreds of odd and worldly souvenirs from her traveling adventures. She had marionettes, sombreros, silk slippers and robes, an old mini slot machine, building blocks, Avon figurines, a round deck of cards and stacks of books.
I remember little things like her showing me her hammer toes or the way she would fall asleep in her chair, head nodding, mouth open. I can describe her house in great detail, the first and second, and I can tell you the toys she kept there for us to play with. I remember taking small walks in both houses, sometimes alone, sometimes with Pat or Bill. And Bill, Pat and Jeff would take off on morning runs. I remember that to take a picture she would stop and make a big production about "putting on her face" first, and really working up a smile. I always thought she was silly because her natural smile was just as beautiful as the one she worked to put on. I remember sleeping in the den at the old house and being terrified because she reminded me every single time about the time she was robbed in that very room!! Between that and the grandfather clock, there was no sleep for me! I remember Uncle Bill sleeping under the dining room table. I remember her awful toilet seat covers and the way they let out a bunch of air when you sat on them and you stuck to them when you got up. I remember that the TV was up really, really loud because she couldn't hear. I never saw her sit in front of the TV though. She just had it on.
I don't have very many stories of Grandma, per se. But I have a lot of wonderful memories.
