grandma
How well I remember the visits to Bob’s grandparents house in Forsyth, Montana. We used to go there every year for a visit. A lot of the visit revolved around the kitchen, where Grandma always seemed to be busily cooking up something. From that first cup of coffee in the morning with real cream from the cows they milked, and fresh eggs that she went out and gathered herself, toast and real butter, to the jellies and pies and cakes she made, everything just tasted different there…special. I suppose it was because of the fact that it was all farm fresh, and not store bought, but I think it was the love that it was made with too.
We loved going out to that old house, even though it was a bit of a drive to be sure. They owned a lot of land…I’m not just sure how much, but it was a big ranch, so the drive out to the house took some time. You could see the highway from their front yard, but it was a long way off. Mostly they owned everything as far as the eye could see. I remember sleeping in the bedrooms upstairs where they raised their children, Bob’s aunts and uncles. The rooms still looked like they did when the kids were living there, complete with the pictures they had on their dressers. It was like stepping back into time, for a little while.
But the best times were spent in the kitchen. We would play cards, for as long as Grandpa (Walt, who was Bob’s step grandpa, but never felt like it to us) could keep the game going, or Grandma would call it a day. Grandpa could play cards all day if she would let him, but she has other things she needed to do. She was always busy in that kitchen. I often wondered if she was so busy because we were there, or if that was always how she was. Of course, when we were there, my girls and I would help out, which they really enjoyed. Funny how your kids enjoy helping out at someone else’s house, but will do anything to get out of work at your own house. She just made it feel like fun, I guess. The girls always felt special at Grandma’s table too, because she had these old pans, that looked like a camping skillet, that the kids got to eat out of. I suppose most people would laugh at that, but there isn’t a one of the grandchildren that didn’t get to use them, nor one that doesn’t love those old pans.
I have been thinking a lot about that old house, and the treasured memories I have from there, and wishing that those days weren’t in the past now. Grandma and Grandpa have gone home to be with the Lord, and while I miss them a lot, they will always live on in my memories…especially the ones in Grandma’s kitchen.
When my grandchildren were younger, their moms had to be to work at 8:00am, and I didn’t have to be to work until 9:00am, so I took the kids to school and daycare. They would begin arriving at my house around 7:30am, and when Josh, my youngest grandson, would walk in the front door, the first words out of his mouth were always the same…”Treat, Grandma…treat!!” Josh was a treat-a-holic, he had a one track mind, and he was always hungry. Left alone with a bag of candy, he would devour it all in one sitting. It wasn’t a matter of greed, he just liked treats so much that he couldn’t stop himself very easily.
When Josh would start asking for a treat with his cute little face, it was a hard thing to resist and I think he knew that, because he took full advantage of the hold he had on his grandma’s heart. He probably conned me out of more treats than the other three grandchildren combined. The only good news was that I tried to have some nutritious sweet snacks in the house, so he wasn’t always eating junk. I just don’t know how one kid could eat so many treats.
Josh can be a bottomless pit, but not usually for the normal foods unless he is in a growth spurt, but he is always a bottomless pit when it comes to sweets, like many other people I know, but that is where the similarities end, and I’m sure it is because he is a kid. You would expect that a child who likes candy and treats as much as Josh, would be an overweight child, but as soon as his baby days were over, so was any sign of chubbiness. Josh turned into a slender, athletic young man, who is a good basketball player and runner. He is also doing well in school, and I am very proud of him, but oh, I do remember the days when that little boy could smile his way into my heart and come out with the prize he was looking for…a treat.
It’s funny that when boys are babies and toddlers, they are so sweet. You just think they will be that way forever. Now, I’m not saying that they are bad…it’s just that it doesn’t take very long for their “boy-ness” to kick in, and when it does, they have to show everyone their new found abilities. It really is a bad time to be the only girl in the bunch, as my only granddaughter, Shai, often finds out. When those boys decide that it is “pick on Shai” day, she is in for it. Sometimes, it’s not too bad, but sometimes she almost needs to be rescued. The good news is that they are just playing, and I know that as they all get older, she won’t think that they are such total pests.
And just because Shai is the only granddaughter, doesn’t mean that she is the only “victim” the boys have, because their moms and even their grandma are fair game. It’s a good thing that I know that they are just kidding, because to be honest, I know that any one of those boys could take me. They are all bigger than I am, and stronger, so I am learning that it is a good thing that they have all learned respect for their elders. They just pick on me because…well they can and I don’t get mad. I guess that makes grandma a pushover, and I would have to say…probably so, because these boys, as well as my granddaughter, know that they really can’t do very much that is wrong in their grandma’s eyes. I’m pretty taken with them.
And it really doesn’t matter how old a boy gets, it would seem that they never really outgrow that “tough guy” persona. You put several teen aged boys together with their grandpa, and the next thing you know, you have a dog pile. Each one trying to prove that he is the strongest. It is the greatest test of “manhood” they have come across in their lives…at least so far, that is. I suppose it is a rite of passage to a degree. Men and boys proving their strength one to another…or maybe it’s the grandsons trying to prove to grandpa that if it’s 3 against 1, he will most likely lose the battle too, although, I’m not really sure who it was that lost this battle…I mean, how could you tell…really.
When Bob was young, he used to love to go to Montana to visit his grandmother. He would go almost every summer. He would help out on the ranch, milking cows, collecting eggs, feeding the stock, and anything else they were doing on the ranch. It was a young boy’s dream summer. Bob loved spending time with his grandma.
To a boy, getting to go spend part of his summer with his grandma was like winning the lottery. Grandmas are notorious for spoiling their grandchildren, even when they have them do chores. It just doesn’t seem like the same thing when it is for your grandma. Grandmas have a way of making chores fun, or maybe it’s just that when the chores are for your parents, it seems boring. Probably mostly because it is for your parents, right.
Bob never outgrew his love for spending time at his grandma’s ranch. As soon as he was old enough, he started going there on his own. Grandma loved having him visit. He even brought his friend Paul with him the last visit before Bob and I were married. He was so proud of his grandma.
After we were married, we continued the tradition of going to visit Grandma on a regular basis. She was so full of life. I quickly learned that Grandma had a way of making everyone feel special. She was so loving, and so welcoming. We went to visit her every summer. Our girls loved going, and Grandpa added to the draw that the ranch held, with his adventurous ways. We just never got tired of being there. They made it so interesting, and they really didn’t do anything so special. They were just themselves, and it was such a different world from what we were used to that we craved it at least once a year.
Grandma and Grandpa are both gone now and we haven’t seen the old ranch house in a long time, but they live on in my memories, as well as Bob’s. In my mind I can still picture the fun times we had out there. Our girls chasing chickens, and riding the horses. And while I wasn’t there at the time, my mind can dream up a picture of a little 10 year old boy spending the summer with his grandparents pretending to be a cowboy and helping with chores that were somehow fun when you did them for Grandma.
Every grandma will tell you that every moment with your grandchildren is a special one. From the first time you hold them after they are born, you just never get over how wonderful they are. They delight your heart with their antics and their humor, and even when they are being a little naughty, their charm will make it almost impossible to be mad at them.
Why is it so different with grandchildren than it was with your own kids. You knew you had to discipline your kids, and you knew you should with your grandchildren, but they are just so darned cute, and after all, it is their parents responsibility to discipline them…isn’t it? So, you spoil them and shower them with love, and their parents hope you don’t do more harm than good, but it just seems like you feel differently about kids behavior as you get older. The little things just don’t bother you as much.
What you notice instead is just how much you can love that little tiny person and just how easily they can wrap you around their little finger. It is a place you will live for the rest of your life. They will always have the ability sweet talk you, and make you feel like they didn’t. And while you know it is going on, you just don’t seem to mind. You simply don’t have it in you to be as hard on them as you felt you must with your own kids. And sometimes they are just so sweet that your favorite Grandma picture doesn’t even include Grandma, it was just a grandma moment.
So, you treasure each moment, each smile, each laugh, knowing that all too soon they will 
be grown up. It is with mixed emotions that you face that reality, because you realize that before you know it, they will be grown and their little kid days will be gone. But then you also realize that when they are grown up, they will marry and before you know it they will have children of their own, and the cycle will start all over, with new little grandbabies to love and hug, and to share those grandma moments with. And you realize how very blessed you are.
When my grandparents were married, on December 24, 1927, our country was in a recession, and money was scarce. My grandfather had a matching set of Sixguns that he loved, but he loved Grandma more, so he sold those guns to get enough money to pay for the wedding costs and get Grandma a ring. He was never able to get them back, but always felt that he got the better end of the deal.
Since times were tough, Grandpa decided to forego a wedding ring for himself so that Grandma could have one. He wanted a wife and family more than a ring. His instincts were good too since they were married 52 years before Grandpa went home to be with the Lord. Their marriage was blessed with 9 children, and countless grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren.
One day, years later, when their second child, my Aunt Virginia, was 8 to 10 years old, all the children were playing outside. Aunt Virginia went exploring at the side of the house, between Grandma and Grandpa’s house and Great Grandma’s house, where there was a flower garden. She looked down, and there in the garden was a man’s wedding ring. It must have been dug up during garden work. Excitedly, she picked it up and ran into the house to show it to her parents.
Grandpa looked at it and told her it was a beautiful ring. He put it on his hand, and looked at it. Then he took it off and gave it back to Aunt Virginia. She said, “Daddy, you should keep it.” He said he couldn’t, but she insisted, and that is how my grandfather got his wedding band from his daughter. Aunt Virginia was so pleased to be able to give her dad the wedding ring he had never had and would not be able to buy for himself, as there were too many other things that his paycheck was needed for. And Grandpa was so pleased that she wanted him to have such a beautiful ring. He wore the ring proudly for the rest of his life. And everyone in his family was very please that he had been blessed with the ring.
When my girls were very small, we took a family vacation to visit their great great grandmother in Washington state. The trip had been planned while their great great grandfather was still alive, but the visit with him wasn’t to be. He would pass away the month before we came to visit. I was always sorry that we didn’t get to visit him too. They had been down to visit us in July and we went up in September. It happened so fast. One day Grandpa was fine, the next he fell off a ladder and broke his hip. He went into shock and was gone.
We went anyway to visit grandma and I was always glad we did. She was an amazing woman. She was 89 years old that year and still lived at her own home…alone. She still cooked and kept house and enjoyed life. She would live to be 97 years old. She was so interesting. She told stories of her family and showed us a family tree that she had that was hand written and extensive.
Corrie was just learning to walk then and found a little chair at Great Great Grandma’s that she loved, because it was short enough for her little legs to crawl up on and sit all by herself. Grandma 
would also let her play with the pans in the kitchen. She pulled them out and had them all over the floor. I tried to stop her from making such a mess, but Grandma said to let her play. She was so patient.
We would go out and sit on her porch and look at the birds and the trees. Her home and yard were beautiful. Corrie, Amy, and I loved it. And she wanted to share it all with us…to pass on a piece of herself and Grandpa to our girls, Bob, and me. The beauty of a different time and place. Her home held the memories of the past and the promise of the future all in one place. I just wish I could have known her better.
We have all at one time or another in our lives, been interested in horses. It just seems to be in our nature. We might go from a rocking horse, to a stick horse, to one on wheels, and eventually to one that is powered by horses. We even name our cars, school mascots, teams, etc, after horses a lot!! There is no doubt…we love horses.
When I was little I had a favorite rocking horse, that I trained to make ruts in my mother’s hardwood floor. We also had a German Shepherd dog named King, that my sisters and I used for our horse…and he was just gentle and kind enough to allow that.
My girls had a stick pony that my father-in-law made for them, which they loved. He gave them the ponies when they were 2 or 3, and they rode them for hours. Oh, the adventures they had! They headed out west, to play Cowboys and Indians…or just rode out across the plains to see what might lay on the other side of the hill…all this of course, in their imaginations, because they never really left the yard. But, that didn’t seem to matter. In their minds, they were explorers, or cowgirls, or just country girls out on a lark. They were on their ponies…just like at Grandma Hein’s ranch.
We went to visit Grandma and Grandpa Hein every summer, and my girls just adored them. Going to their ranch was that adventure come true. They explored the barn and found eggs hidden outside the chicken coop, where the hen was hoping to keep them safe for hatching, and avoid having them used for breakfast. They wandered over that next hill to see what might be there, and found an old play house where they would spend countless hours living in the old west.
And…they would get the chance to ride a real horse once in a while. Grandpa 
Hein would set them up on a huge horse, bareback, because their feet wouldn’t reach the sturrips on a saddle anyway, and he would lead them around the corral, while in their heads, they would build a story of being a real cowgirl in the old west.
Our trips to Grandma and Grandpa Hein’s ranch every summer were a rare treasure that my girls got to have, and one I will always be glad we gave them. Grandma and Grandpa Hein always made them feel so very special, as they did Bob and me. They were Bob’s grandma and step grandpa, but to us that didn’t matter. Grandpa was just Grandpa, and they were wonderful. We love and miss you both!!
Christopher, my first grandchild, turns 15 today. He was born on his great grandmother’s birthday, Bob’s mother. That is unusual in itself, but when you add the fact that Christopher’s mom was born on her great grandmother’s birthday, and that grandmother was the mother of Christopher’s great grandmother, you have an unusual occurrence indeed. And, when you add to that the fact that he was the first great grandchild, and his mom was the same, it gets to be even more rare. This has been a fun fact in the family for years.
Christopher was the first in a series of grandbabies that I couldn’t wait to get. Moments after his birth, my daughter Corrie said, “We made it mom!!” I said, “Made what?” She said, “You are a grandmother before you are 40.” I had always told the girls that I wanted to be a grandma before I turned 40, because I was so ready for that next step in life. And, yes indeed, we made it…twice. I was 39 when Christopher was born, and didn’t turn 40 until that April.
Christopher was, nevertheless, a bit of a “culture shock” for me, in that I had been raised with 4 sisters (no brothers) and then I had 2 daughters (no sons) and suddenly there was this very different kind of child in my life. Christopher is all boy. He is into sports, cars, and of course, girls! As a boy he was rough and tumble, and filled with
energy. I wasn’t used to that type of personality…but he changed all that. His 
favorite sport is football. He loves to take out the quarterback…and it doesn’t make any difference to him how big the guards might be. He simply has no fear!! Girls are so different that that, so I was quickly initiated into a new world. Soon, I was very used to the antics of boys, who I have learned are very different from girls, indeed.
Now, my first little grandbaby is turning 15 years old. He is tall and strong, with a deep voice like his dad’s…just one more thig that I have to get used to. That little boy voice is gone forever, as is the little boy, but he has turned into a wonderful young man, who makes his grandma and grandpa very proud!! Happy Birthday Chris!! We love you very much!!
