Sunday, January 06, 2008




So Long Grandma


This weekend we all said our last good-byes to Grandma Renshaw.  This woman whom it seems I hardly knew.  In the days that she lived, she was defined by her family.  She was defined by her sons and her grandchildren.  

For me, Grandma was so quiet.  Her laugh was quiet.  She was nervous when too many people were around, yet lonely when they weren't.  I saw mere bits and pieces of who she was.  She seemed sad yet feigned a smile.  Her shaky writing told of the weather, the family and her battle with shingles.  

When I was not grown up yet, going to Grandma's house was an experience.  They lived in a house in a very small town.  When Grandpa was alive we used to have to go to the bar and see him after we greeted Grandma and caught up with things.  The house was Grandma.  You walked into the house and the small enclosed front porch had plants in it.  In the kitchen was where you would find Grandma most of the time.  She had Sanka and Folder's instant coffee.  Smells I recall and still think of on the rare occasion when I encounter them.  She had metal cabinets in the kitchen and '50s stars adorning the floor, the chairs and the table.  The refrigerator was old and required two tugs to open.  The ice was in the small freezer chamber at the top of the inside and within a door.  That is where we would get the ice that we would put in the colorful metal cups that were so much fun to drink out of.  Instant coffee and milk were put in the white and blue thick plastic cups and glasses.  A container of bacon grease was on the stove and saved for use in other recipes.  The radio would tell of farm news and weather announced from a larger nearby city if you were up early enough.  

The back porch held another refrigerator and perhaps a freezer.  You could see the cellar from there.  There was no basement.  There was a mound with a door on it.  That held certain canned goods and served as the shelter for tornadoes.  I saw it once with the door open, and saw enough to know that I didn't want to go down there.  The backyard held a rhubarb patch that was the start of the famous rhubarb bars she would make.  Was there an apricot tree?  The memories are fuzzy.

The dining room always seemed dark and was never used that I recall.  The chairs had worn leather seats that it seems were dangerous to sit on.  Or maybe we would just be told that so we would stay off them.  I think I recall working on crossword puzzles in there or something like that.  There was no china cabinet, but a small bureau.  There was a mirror that held so many pictures of our family.  She always seemed to have the most up to date photos of our cousins, so it was always exciting for us to look at.  

Off the dining room was the only bathroom in the house.  It was long and narrow.  When you first walked in, you saw the washer and drier.  There was also a drying rack that had towels on it.  I would also see things sitting on them like campo phenique?  Ben Gay, and other lotions and tinctures for what I thought were the grooming necessities for old people.  There was no tub, but a shower that was always loud if you dared to hit the side of.  

A step down from the dining room held the living room.  The living room held the only air conditioner that I recall.  It was next to Grandpa's chair.  Also by his chair was the tv tray that he used to work his crossword puzzles.  There was a bookcase that held his crossword dictionaries.  I also remember an ashtray stand by his chair.  The couch was masked by crocheted afghans.  Rugs buffered the carpet and were a constant source of tripping.  There was a toy area or box that had toy soldiers that we were told Ronnie and Donnie played with when they were young.  

Upstairs was a completely different adventure.  You opened the door and to the left, when you could find it was a switch with two push in buttons:  one for on and one for off.  The steep stairs creeked as you went up them.  If you stopped and turned halfway up the stairs, there was a shelf with games and the anatomic man (?)  Our favorite game as kids was the Battleship game.  Once you completed the climb up the stairs, you would see the large bedroom to the right which was Grandma's room.  The bed was always made and it was always clean.  The next bedroom was Ron and Don's room.  This was the source of so much fun for us.  A dresser held issue after issue of MAD magazine.  The top it seems, had many figures on them.  We had to be careful because we weren't supposed to touch them - which to children meant to be cautious and not to let anyone hear you touch them.  There were also many comic books that Don drew himself.  These were on thin paper that crinkled when you turned them.  He was good!  Grandpa's room was the room at the end of the hall.  He was snoring in there at night, and for children this was eerie.  Grandma would sleep on the other twin bed in there when we were visiting and would turn her queen bed over to mom and dad for the stay.

The summers were always hot there.  I recall having difficulty sleeping.  We always slept in Ron and Don's old room.  A fan would be in the window, and the noise would often distract us from the heat so we could sleep.  The most caution was needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  The upstairs hallway was completely dark.  The switch was at the bottom of the steep steps.  Once you got that far, it was really no use turning it on.  The steps each creaked as you walked down them.  You tried to tread gingerly so you would not wake anyone.

When we were there, we would always go up and see the horse.  It seemed like it was such a walk, but on the recent trip back, it really wasn't that far.  We would also visit the school.  I think we would try on occasion to climb the old fire escape slide.  But mostly I think that we would yell up it to hear it echo.