Throw Back Thursday....

I have mentioned my 3-sets of grandparents a few times, and how we were blessed that they all got along, which made life easier for all of us, especially during holidays. Thought I would share them today, and a few stories that are actually not all rosy.

Eleven years ago today, my Grandma Baker died.  She would be 103. She was a difficult woman. It was not an easy thing, being her guardian, in her later years. She fought me on every decision I had to make for her. I did my best for her, for my mom. That's the only thing that kept me going and allowed me to take good care of her, knowing it was what my mom would be doing if she was still living.  We think Grandma was sexually abused as a child, by her dad. No proof, and she never talked about it, but when she was six years old, she went to live with her grandmother. The rumors have lived in the dark corners of the family for years. Her dad was known to be mean and sometimes violent.  It would possibly explain her control issues and her anger issues.

Not sure why I spilled that, other than the pictures I chose to share, and that this is the anniversary of her death.  Grandma was married three times. Ethel Jane Willman Cameron James Baker. She and my Grandpa Cameron had my mom and my uncle. They were divorced when Mom was 11 years old. She then married my Grandpa James, and they had over 35 years together before he died. Grandpa James was a saint. Seriously. When he died, she married Grandpa Baker. After he died, she started a downward spiral that ended with me having to declare her unfit and become her guardian. I did what I had to do, and I did it for my mom, not grandma. Why does it bother me, eleven years later? Good grief. At her funeral, the minister (who didn't know her) asked me, my sisters and brother for something to share about her. Not one of us could think of anything nice. It was really sad. We had nothing to give him.
 

 This is Grandma, when she was Grandma James. Grandpa James was the sweetest man. An Angel. He was an all-round handy man. He could build anything. He could fix appliances. He could find a positive when everyone else only saw negatives. He loved us, as if we were of his blood. He had the sweetest smile and the best laugh. He loved peanut butter and crackers, and black coffee. He was active in the Lions Club, and he was a true Christian man, who went to church regularly. He made sure all the girls in his life had corsages to wear on Easter Sunday. Those carnations were so special.

 

This is my biological Grandpa (my mom's dad), and my step-grandma, who is 94 and doing great. Grandpa Cameron smoked cigars. To this day, the smell of cigars takes me back to a warm and fuzzy place, safe beside my grandpa. He was generous and my step-grandma wanted for nothing. She took such good care of him (being considerably younger). She lives alone now, but her younger brother stops in twice a day and looks after her needs. She broke her hip a few years ago, and healed fine. Rehab went great, but now she just wants to stay inside. She has a yard full of squirrels, birds and ducks that visit, and they get fed everyday right outside her sun porch, for her entertainment. Her church women's group comes to her house to meet a few times a year, since she doesn't go out.  After my grandpa died, at age 90, she eventually married Grandpa Thompson. His children are also caring and still looking after her, too. She has a full and love-filled life.

 Pawpaw and Granny Kelly. My dad's folks. Hardworking farmers. After they retired from the farm, and moved 'in town', Pawpaw still had a big garden, and Granny had a yard filled with wonderful flowers. She made the best fried chicken. I know she used lard, and that is probably part of the secret. (Everything fries better in lard.) The candy dish, on the desk, was always full of marshmallows covered in toasted coconut. I haven't seen them for sale anywhere in years. Pawpaw hung himself, in the garage, when he was 82. He wasn't sick and it was a complete surprise. A neighbor found him and called the police. The police knocked on the door, and interrogated Granny. She had no idea. There was no note or indication that anything was going on with him. He just went into the garage, backed out the car and hung himself. Granny was never the same, and after a couple of years, ended up in a nursing home where she just withered away. So sad. I was in my early 20s when all this happened. 

You know, sad things-bad things, happen in life. I have to let you know that there were many, many years filled with joy and laughter and great family times. Christmases and Thanksgivings with 30+ people - aunts, uncles, cousins. I have so many happy memories and they all over-ride the sad times. 

So now you know more than you wanted to, but it does feel good to share and to put in it writing. Thanks for wading through this.  Maybe having the funeral to attend later today sparked some of this. Al and Sheila knew my grandma and the problems I had with her. Sheila mentioned it when we were talking last weekend. Maybe it's like a dream you have because of something you hear during the day. 

Anyway, on to the 4th of July and a very happy weekend!! Hope you get to enjoy some fireworks!!