Memories of Grandma Stokes

I found this paper I had written several years ago.  I believe it was for Grandma Stokes' 8oth birthday.  The family put together a collection of favorite memories of Grandma.  Here is my story:

So many things go through my mind as I think of the wonderful lady who took us in for at least two weeks every summer when I was a little girl.  I was never very good at picking just one thing when there are so many good choices to choose from.

I guess the one thing that keeps coming to mind, as I think of such a wonderful grandmother, is when I was about five or six years old.  The sun had set and darkness crept in through the windows of that old house.  At night my mind always conjured up strange images.  I was tucked warmly in the roll-away bed Grandma always kept for company.  Brett and Kenny were incessantly fighting for their half of the larger bed in the back bedroom.

It was unfair that I was alone in the small bed to fend for myself in the darkness.  When Muffy scampered in the room, I got out of bed to lure her in for some protection.  As I chased after her, a giant woman (as it appeared to a child of my size) came after me, spat me on the butt and told me firmly to get back into bed.  At that time, I was sure "Grandma" was synonymous with "Wicked Witch of the West."

My impression could not have been more wrong.  As I grew to know more about the world I lived in, the meaning of "Grandma" changed drastically.  My vocabulary had expanded and so had my time spent with Grandma.  I came to learn the true meaning of "Grandma" was candy in a jar on her lamp table, a full cookie jar, Popsicles in the freezer, pop in the fridge, milk shakes from the Polar Bear, fast food, fishing trips to Foster and Glendale Reservoir, and much, much more.  In other words, "Grandma" is actually a verb meaning - to spoil rotten.  I would say Grandma Stokes covered that perfectly.

The thing I will cherish most about Grandma is the long drives she would take us on to see the world around us in all it's beauty.  Long drives that would last all day, and drive away our boredom.  The funniest drive I remember was when she drove Ken and me somewhere in the hills above Preston, telling stories all along the way, engulfing our minds in visions of what had gone before.

We came a stream that rushed by through a tunnel under the road, and Grandma decided we had better turn around.  As she backed off the dirt road to turn around she said, "You watch on that side to make sure I don't hit anything."  Kenny was sitting by the window, so naturally I thought she was talking to him.

CLUNK!

Oops!  Without warning the back wheel dropped off the edge of the bank and high centered the back end of the truck.

"What did you let us do that for?" Ken accused me.
"What?  You were the one supposed to be watching!" I defended
"No sir!  You were!"

Ken and I were both embarrassed and had to lay the blame elsewhere.  We didn't know what else to do, all alone with no one to help us out, and we were a little nervous.  We never thought we could get stuck with Grandma driving, but there we were.  Luckily, Grandma, instead of laying blame, just got busy and within  the hour we were unstuck and happily on our way.  Hard work was her trademark.

Without fail, whenever something went wrong or something was broken, Grandma would always show us that we were more important than anything in the world.  I will remember all the love and joy Grandma has shared with me throughout every stage of my life.  It doesn't matter what I have done in my life, Grandma was always there with her arms wide open ready to share her love.  She has given me the greatest gift in all the world. 

Thank you Grandma Stokes!  I love you in so many ways and always will!

CHILDHOOD STUPIDITY

The youth in our church have been learning about family history this month.  I attended a Wednesday night youth activity, and they took the younger group to the Family History Library while the older group stayed at the church.  I stayed to supervise the older group.  One of the leaders passed out paper and pencils and had the youth write down events from their childhood that they would like to remember.  He assigned a topic, allowed five minutes for the kids to write, and then had volunteers share the stories they wrote down.  I really enjoyed the activity.  So much so that I would like to share with you the topics and stories I wrote down.

The first topic was  - SOMETHING STUPID I DID AS A CHILD

Here is the event that came to my mind (besides throwing an enormous icicle at Brett and hitting him in the head, or throwing paper airplanes at passing cars to freak them out, or....well... never mind). 

The night was dark and cold.  The frigid air hinted at the coming snow.  A slight breeze whispered of trouble in the air.  I can't remember why Ken and I were out wandering the neighborhoods in our area that late at night, but we must have been bored and were looking for something to do.  We agreed it would be fun to knock on doors and run away.  We chose a door, knocked and ran.  Safely hidden away we quietly snickered at our craftiness, until we realized that the parents of the house were out thoroughly searching every bush and shrub in their yard.

As they drew closer to our hiding spot, we panicked and made a run for it.  Ken took off so fast I didn't have a chance to see where he went.  The dad, seeing he had no chance to catch my brother, turned his angry sites on me.  I sprinted as fast as I could down the street.  Like a cheetah, I had him beat with my speed, however I didn't have the stamina.  My muscles were soon exhausted and he started gaining on me.  To my foolish child's mind I thought maybe I could dodge his rage-filled grasp like I did with the boys on the football field at recess.  To my chagrin, he instantly caught a hold of my coat and lifted me off the ground.  He hissed his curses in my face gave me a good shake and let me go.  I honestly have no idea what he said to me.  All I heard in my head was, "YOU ARE SO DEAD!!!  YOU'RE GONNA DIE!!!  PLEASE DON'T EAT ME!!!"

I stood where the man had set me down in a daze.  My face burned from the embarrassment of being caught.  As soon as the dad had disappeared out of site, Ken popped up out of the darkness.  He had a sheepish grin on his face.  I imagined he felt bad for ditching me (at least I hope he did). 

He gave me a little shove and asked, "Why did you let that guy catch you?" 
"Why did you leave me?!?" was my reply.
"Last I looked you had him beat, so I took off."  Ken answered.
"Yeah, thanks a lot."

We both gave a weak laugh and headed for home.  I never, ever, played that game EVER again!