Grandma

As a grandchild I was fortunate to be at the receiving end of the best aspects of your personality. In my eyes you were always a little bundle of Japanese joy. It's hard for me to picture you upset or not smiling because it doesn't mesh with the idyllic imagery I have of you in my head. I picture big curls of hair, glasses, and a warm smile that proceeds a huge hug. Big family gatherings in Chowchilla, the smells and warmth of home cooked food. I guess I kind of pictured you as the stereotypical image of the perfect Grandma. One that taps the screens of slot machines and says, "seven, seven, seven." Who sits down and says, "Oyshakoda." Who enjoys a good game of Yahtzee or Rummikubs. I know it in no way encompasses the many aspects of you and glazes over the nuances that made you as a whole such a genuine and loving person, but that's just the image I have.

Joyous? Check.
Kind? Check.
Did you spoil us? Check.
Affectionate? Check.
Bake great cookies? Check.
Did you let me jump on your back and yell go granny go? Check.

Artistically talented and profoundly influential in not only the formation but also the anchoring and stability of the entire family, it's hard to express just how much you mean to all of us. When I was younger and had a thing for collecting raccoon figurines, you told me that your mother had a small collection of them as well and that's why I must have been into them. If the influence of my great grandmother trickled down and presented itself in my collecting habits, I hope that I am lucky enough to have the way you are and the way you lived show an even more pronounced presence in the rest of my life.

I know you passed down your sometimes surprisingly crude yet harmless sense of humor. You always had some new jokes to tell me whenever I saw you. It didn't matter how corny they were, if you delivered the punchline too early, if you rephrased it so the joke fell flat, they always made me at the very least smile. You can't not smile when the sweetest lady in the world tells you a joke, no matter how bad it is. My brother and I were talking about a memory of ours involving your sense of humor. We were probably teenagers and had been playing basketball. I must have left the basketballs on the table because my dad chided us saying, "Toe, get your balls off the table." You started laughing hysterically, trying to stifle yourself and fight back tears. I think Mom saw you and sucked her teeth like she always does. "Tsk, Miiitch!!" You responded through uncontrollable laughter, "Winston said it...Toe, get your balls off the table," as you resumed laughing. That's one of my favorite memories, picturing you trying unsuccessfully to contain the laughter that was fighting through. Tears of pure joy streaming down your face.

You and I also shared the same taste in music. Although I prefer Deano to Perry Como, I won't forget slow dancing with you at Jim's birthday.

Feet shuffling slowly on uneven grass, the pretend Beatles providing the rhythmic backbone to our unrhythmic movements. The cool Sacramento breeze lightly whispering above the fray of the party as we rocked back and forth under a darkening sky. They had started a slow song and I had grabbed you and lead you to the grass. While we danced, bordered by tiki torches, I asked if you and Grandpa used to go out dancing. You told me you had and I pictured the two of you swaying to Louis Armstrong cheek to cheek in a smoke filled danceroom. I am not exactly sure where that would have been in Fresno, but it didn't really matter. We went back to circling in silence. Small steps in the cool night time air, a large tree casting shadows on the ground. I looked at the rest of the family and grinned, we moved closer to Jim, who's birthday it was and joined their circle. The pretend Beatles played us out.

These are only a few of the memories I am blessed to have cultivated during a life spent with your love, your gentle healing hugs and your infectious attitude of positivity and joy. I am forever grateful to have had you in my life, for your guidance, love, affection, jelly donuts, and strength. The ability to raise such a successful family in some of the harder times to pull off such a feat. You are the matriarch of our family, the Queen that holds us all together. I love you immensely. Thank you for being there for me and the entire family. We are lucky to have been blessed with your presence and kindness. I love you more than words can say.

Go Granny go,

Toe