As the eldest child of the eldest child, I have many wonderful and sharp memories of my grandmother. One of my very first is standing in her kitchen in Oakley, Idaho and asking her what her name was. This was a favorite game of my sister and mine because no matter how many times we asked she always answered with a smile "Granny Goose". From that time on Granny she was.
In fact many of my memories include Granny in the kitchen. She was an amazing cook. Her baking was legendary (cinnamon rolls to make you weep). She was always on the look out for a good recipe or cookbook. Oh, could that woman collect cookbooks. Two of the most used items in my house are family cookbooks that include her tried and true recipes (even if she did put them under other people's names). There are still times that I want to pick up the phone to get clarification from her on exactly the right way to prepare a family favorite. Gran loved having all her family gathered for a meal. She would prepare for a week in advance for a simple Sunday dinner (like any of those are simple when you feed so many) and the time table for a holiday meal could span weeks.
Gran was also a gracious hostess. As a young woman, she would "employ" my sister and I to be her wait staff at one of the many parties that she held for my Grampy's co-workers. I learned how to set a lovely table, to anticipate the needs of my guests, and make it all look so easy from those experiences. Although I'm not quite sure how much I helped. She always took pride in her home and her family.
Children always knew that Gran had a soft place in her heart for them. Not only was her door (and her candy cabinet) open to her 14 grandchildren but to children in the neighborhood and ward. My mom has said that she learned how to be a grandmother by watching Granny. No rambling story was ever too long, no scribble on a piece a paper was ever less than a masterpiece, and no accomplishment was too small for a celebration. Gran was never too busy, never uninterested, and never too tired (running after a metal hoop trying to hit it with a paddle). She passed down her knowledge to her grandchildren just as her grandmother had passed it down to her. You knew that you were going to have fun if Granny was around.
I could go on and on. Roses and daisies were her favorite flowers. She never cared for her birth stone (garnet), she preferred rubies. Her "vitamins" were chocolate covered raisins. She loved her little dog. Her backings on her tied blankets were always flannel. Her last jar of canned sweet pickles were always fought over. Gran could always talk herself out of a purchase by saying "we can make that". She referred to my grandfather as either "the man I love" or "the man I live with" (you knew when Grampy was in trouble). She traveled the world as an Army wife and cared for three children while my grandfather was deployed. She drew our family together in so many big and small ways.
I miss her all the time, but I know that she peeks in on me every once in a while. Just to make sure that I'm spoiling her great-grandchildren enough.
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