The last time I saw her was Christmas of 2007. Ali and I took Braden to the nursing home to visit. She seemed to enjoy holding him, although I don't know that she knew who we were. The thing I remember about that visit was Ali setting Braden, all of 7 months old at the time, on her lap and sitting close by to be sure Grandmother didn't drop him. Well, I think she sensed that we were nervous about her dropping him and she put a death grip on his wrist that I don't think we could have pried free even if we had wanted to. I don't know what kinds of things we'll remember when we get to heaven, but I hope she is able to remember that visit with a clear mind, the way we do.
That visit is not how I will remember her, though. I think my memories will always be of Christmas in Sky Valley. I remember the sleeping bags spread out in the back of the suburban so we could sleep through the car ride that, at the time, seemed like an eternity. Each year we hoped there would be snow but were often disappointed since snow was rare in December there. And I'll of course remember turning to go up the near vertical driveway that wound through the hillside trees up to the 3-story house.
The bottom floor of the house was just one room and the garage- Stan's domain. Past the Blazer and through the garage door, we were greeted with that Grandma's house smell. Mothballs? Old worn leather? Partially chewed cigars? Probably all of the above. Since the house was on a hillside, you walked in through the garage but looked up through the bottom floor window at the ground rising up past the house. You know, one of those tiny little windows, nearly touching the ceiling, and serving no real purpose other than to fascinate little grandkids with its half-ground-half-sky view.
Up through the claustrophobic stairwell Grandmother waited for us on the main floor of the house - we always called her Grandmother, never Grandma or Gramma or Gramms or the like. The grandfather clock ticked off the minutes we spent looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows that proffered their views of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance. The Christmas tree was always perfectly decorated, at least in my memories, just the way you expect everything to be at your grandmother's house.
The kids usually slept on the third floor: a single small room with a couple of twin beds and Grandmother's creepy doll collection. There are a few movies I'm glad I never saw as a kid or I never could have slept in that room. There was also the pull-out bed on the ground floor, but I don't remember ever using that one. It was probably reserved for the eldest grandchild.
Ironically, I can't remember what we actually did in Sky Valley all those Christmases. There was one year when they had snow and we got to go sledding down the hill on the side of the house. After that got boring, we took the sleds down to the side of the road, a much longer run, but a brutal walk back up the hill. I remember a trip to Pigeon Forge one year and the year all the boys got the Gotcha paintball guns for Christmas. They didn't work right and eventually got returned. That's also my first memory of one of my older brothers pulling the "heads I win, tails you lose" trick on me.
Grandmother Leach always had lots of presents for us at Christmas. I know she raised two boys of her own but I sometimes wondered if she ever bought them anything growing up. Socks? Underwear? Free Willy VHS? What was I supposed to do with that stuff? But she never stopped giving when it came to her grandchildren. And maybe that kind of stuff was more for mom and dad anyways. Now that I'm a father I can appreciate not having to buy so many clothes for the little beansprout.
I could go on for several more pages, and maybe I will after we lay Grandmother to rest next weekend and we've had some time to remember as a family. Stan, her husband of thirty-some-odd years passed away just a couple months ago, rather unexpectedly. He was my dad's stepdad but the only grandfather I ever really knew. He is greatly missed also and deserves some recorded memories of his own. That will be for another day. We love and miss you both!
In memory of Stan and June Leach, LongTimeAgo - 2008/9
P.S. For any family reading this and thinking I messed up a lot of details - who cares? I'll keep my memories just the way they are, no matter how distorted they might be.
2 comments:
Sorry to hear about your Grandma. However, I am so excited to see you guys have a blog!
Wish I would have been in the family longer to have more time with the loved ones that have passed on. But there is comfort in knowing that they are waiting in Heaven for us and that we will have eternity to be together!
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