If you knew my grandparents, you’re laughing at that title. As much time as I spent with them, I wouldn’t exactly say that my memories of them were necessarily as a happy couple. They were definitely a couple, committed until the end, but happy? Such a strong word in this context. Well, go ahead and just take a look at them.
I do admit that grandma is smiling in this one, but they were usually pretty stoic looking. I don’t remember a ton of smiling and laughter, but maybe that’s just me. By the time I remember, my grandmother was already having health problems, my grandfather Cal spent most of his time smoking in his recliner. He had his own issues as well. They bickered. I loved them dearly, happy or not. My grandma Kate would always hold my hand until I fell asleep. They let me take showers for as long as I wanted. We drank buttermilk with salt and pepper, and made deep fried donut holes for breakfast rolled in sugar. She introduced me to the saltine cracker covered in butter and strawberry jelly that my kids have just this past month grown to appreciate. I sat on the armrest between them in the car, and experienced the first car accident in my memory right there between them. I always got to pick their ripe tomatoes planted by the fence. They let me cut the lawn on the riding mower all by myself when I was way too young. Their house was the half way point on my walk home from school. They let me watch scary stuff on TV.
They brought the family together.
