Monday, May 07, 2012

The Sweet Life @ 215 North


It is Grandma Dona's 90th birthday this weekend and as we prepare for the celebration she has been filling my thoughts more than usual. 

I took Miss Q to visit her in Rexburg last week and I had a rough time with how dramatically she changes each time I see her.  She has aged so drastically over the past 2 years and it is difficult to spend time with her and not be sad about the deterioration of her mind and body. 

She could not remember who Q was or what was happening one moment to the next.  She tried to make a cake to welcome us but even reading off the box she wasn't able to remember how to do it.  Uncle Scott stepped in to help so it would be ready when we arrived but the way it was frosted absolutely broke my heart.  This woman who taught me to be so particular when baking, was unable to assemble and frost this simple cake and it embarrassed her.

Her current state is difficult for me to accept but I have been unbelievably lucky to have her so close for many, many years and that is how I choose to think of her.

I grew up with my grandma living next door.  Any time I needed a lap to sit on or safe haven from my small world, all I had to do was cross the peach orchard to the white house on the South side of the family farm and there I would find Grandma Dona.  

Grandma working in her raspberry patch
October 2008

The orchard seemed so big to me when I was tiny and I would hurry past the mangled tree (where uncle Scott had glued eyes to the trunk), knee deep in asparagus and find my grandma working in the garden or kitchen. Despite the scary tree, I would never walk on the gravel road to get to Grandma's because that would mean crossing the irrigation ditch and it was made clear to me that doing so unattended, surely meant sudden death. 

I assumed everyone grew up this way; with fruit trees scattering their yards, large canning kitchens in the basements, wheat grass growing year round in mass on shelves in the house. Parents who got up in the middle of the night to turn the irrigation water down the ditch and flood the lawn and orchards, horses in the back yard and riding with my mom on an old white tractor to turn the soil.  The best part though was having my grandparents a 1 minute walk away.  We lived on our own farm oasis in the middle of the suburbs where having my grandparents at my disposal was taken for granted.

Grandma in her raspberry patch.
I love this photo because she is using a bucket tied around her waist with a dog leash
October 2008  
Me and Grandma at Timmy's high school graduation
 She told, "any girl wearing that dress needs a blessing"
May 2002 
3 Generations
May 2002
We had to have mom cover up her raccoon eyes she got from working outside at the Scera Shell
May 2002


The Yellow house where I grew up
About 2 years ago Grandma Dona had to leave her house on the farm, which over the past 15 years has become an island of memories amongst newly built homes, on land that once belonged to the family.  

The work in took to maintain her garden and the energy to care for thousands of square feet of house that was home to countless families in need for 35 years, had become too much for her.  Her aging body compounded by the anguish of losing my mother and being faced with looking out of her bedroom window onto the yellow house where I grew up, that is now filled with unkind strangers, was too much.


Me and Grandma at my wedding
February 2006
Me and Grandma on my 30th birthday
September 2007
Grandma at Sydney's baby shower
January 2008

Uncle Scott, Heather, Me & Grandma
After recording some history at the Story Corp Booth
April 2009

Me and Grandma @ Sydney's 2nd birthday party
February 2010
Grandma @ Sydney's 2nd birthday party
She could not keep her hands off the cotton candy
February 2010
Heather & Grandma @ Sydney's 2nd birthday party
February 2010

Last summer as we were having a garage sale to get rid of the last things Grandma had left behind, I took my grandma's favorite rose bush from her house.  It had been nestled next to her kitchen porch my entire life and at her mother's house before that.  Last week the first bud emerged from this antique briar and I felt overwhelmingly blessed to have this growing piece of history as a daily reminder of my young life on the farm, living next to my grandma, where every little girl should grow up.

(Visit my other blog to see photos of Nana and Q)