What you left

By Taylor M

I was always close with my grandma Marge. 

When I was five, we moved into the second story of her house, and later moved to the house in her backyard where I spent the majority of my childhood.

I would visit her often. My mom told me to wait until 10 am to go over in case she was still sleeping. This meant that most days during the summer I would wake up and stare at the clock, just to run to grandma's back door the moment it turned 10.

I had a special heart-shaped bowl only I was allowed to eat out of. We would make spaghetti together sometimes. I loved helping her cook during Thanksgiving (even if I wasn’t really doing much). 

She had coloring books, markers, colored pencils, crayons, and a TV tray ready for me in case I would pop in. She had her side of the bed and I had mine. We’d watch programs about true crime or she would have one of her shows playing as I colored flowers and hummingbirds.

She always asked me to do odd jobs for her. And as she grew older and her body more frail, I would help more when I was over. She would call my mom to have me over sometimes, and when I was done doing some chore, I’d stay a few more hours.

My mom would help grandma out too. Get groceries for her, take her to doctor's appointments. It’s the least we could do seeing as she let us into her home.

I talked to my mom, and sister Sammy about grandma. They also loved grandma very much, and knew her much longer than I did. 

Sammy: “She was there to, y’know, take care of us when we had nowhere else to go. So like, that was lit. We watched a lot of TV together. And she cared. And she was very particular in how she liked things.”

My father and aunt had a lot of kids, so grandma had quite a few grandchildren. But she always managed to give all of us a big piece of her heart, making us feel loved.

Sammy: “We lived with her off and on for 15 years. There’s a lot [of memories].” 

Taylor: “What’s one that jumps to your mind?”

Sammy: “Well, she always used to make me feel special. Like, everybody [the grandkids] stopped getting birthday presents when they turned 18, but when I turned 19, she still took me out to dinner. We had a nice dinner and a nice chat. 'Cause like, she was really special, and I was really special to her and I knew that. That was cool, and she’d like to take me to see all kinds of teeny bopper movies that I liked to watch.”

Mom: “I have lots of good memories. When, well, before you were born, and your grandpa Jim was still around, Sammy was a little girl. A lot of the family lived in California and she had lots of sisters. We used to have really cool Christmases and we used to go on family picnics. Christmas was very special to her. New Years, they would have a party, make french dips and play poker ‘till the wee hours of the morning. It was a lot of fun when the whole family would get together. The day before Thanksgiving, all the women would get together and drink and make pies. I’m surprised we didn’t have more burnt pies.”

Taylor: [Laughs].

Mom: “It was fun, it was a lot of fun.”

There was stuff my mom talked about that I hadn’t heard before, like the picnics and New Years parties. My conversation with mom was one of those moments you have as you get older where you truly see the parental figures in your life not just as parental figures, but as people who have led full lives of memories.

Mom: “Your grandma Marge loved her children, and loved her grandchildren. And her great grandchildren with all of her heart. She was a very hard woman, hard-working woman. And she was a good wife, and a good mother-in-law, and she did her best to love everybody equally.”

I personally felt a strong connection to grandma Marge. Maybe that’s because I spent so much of my very young life close to her. Even with that, we were connected by our birthday. Both me and my grandma were born on September 22nd. Me in 2006, and her in 1946.

Her mother had the same birthday as us, but she lived in Idaho. So grandma was always there during the celebration, but every year without fail, I would get a call from her and we’d exchange our happy birthdays. 

Soon enough, three years will have passed since we said goodbye. Two years on September 22nd, I turned a year older, and she didn’t get to.

But when my family brings the cake and starts to sing, so do I. But instead, I’m singing to Marjorie. 

My birthday will never feel the same without your call. But I will always sing for you. 

And smile, remembering yours.

For the Warrior Times, this is Taylor McCance.