G is for Grandmother (Maternal)

DragonflymuseI never met my maternal grandmother.  In fact, even my mother barely met her before she died.  My grandfather (also never met) remarried and the grandmother I knew ended up with so many daughters its like naming the seven dwarves (if the dwarves were far more attractive and awesome aunties), and one son.

Back on topic.  I recently asked one of my elder aunts for stories about my blood grandmother.  No one ever talked of her.  I never even saw a picture until I was going through a sentimental value box in my mother’s closet and found a newspaper clipping about her.  I still want my mother to figure out a scanner, scan, and email me a copy of that clipping.  She lives a ten-hour drive from me now.

My aunt, Mary, returned a letter with a card and gave me permission to share it as a Memory Monday guest post.

Mary Card 2Mary Card 3Leave it to your sister to make potential brain damage cracks about smacking your brain cage around.


Feel free to leave comments and share memories of your grandparents with me!  I love stories and people fascinate me.  Or, comment with links to specific posts if you already have one or several posts written about your grandparents.

Translation for those unable to read cursive (personal notes in parentheses and italics):

Dear Laura (this is my muggle name), Michael, and Delos,

Laura, thank you for your letter (it was several pages long about memories and curious questions).  I love all of you and your family very much.

I remember the cute booties our mommy always put on Judy (my mother).  I remember that our mommy (name Mary – I was named after her and Grandma Mary Fuller) (or maybe Tuller; I’m serious no one ever talked about this stuff while I was growing up, at least not to me), let me dress Judy and one time I could not get her plastic pants pulled up over her diaper, so I was trying to push the plastic pants to make them go on Judy, and Judy’s head ended up bumping the wall next to our blue sofa, and Judy slipped head first, upside down, between the sofa and wall, so she was upside down caught between the wall and sofa.  Of course, Judy cried, so our mommy came next to me and held onto Judy’s head and legs while our daddy pulled the sofa away from the wall, so Judy was okay…I guess…maybe…

Love, from,
Aunt Mary
PS At least Judy survived.
(I included both the card and the non-cursive translation because you get something extra from handwriting – at least I think so – but I recognize that some visitors read only printed English).



About Saronai

I'm an eclectic amalgam of confusingly combined oddities.
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4 Responses to G is for Grandmother (Maternal)

  1. megan says:

    Very cool letter from your aunt. I try to save things like that. I posted about my grandpa today in the a-z challenge: http://www.m5carolin.blogspot.com/2013/04/grandpa-jack.html

    • Saronai says:

      Thanks for the comment! I’m glad you try and save things like this, because even when it’s not my family, I like reading things like this. I enjoyed reading about your grandfather…I can be a bit loud too, at least after I’m comfortable enough to cease observing and getting to know people and start really interacting. Your grandpa sounded like a pretty cool guy, thanks for sharing him with me.

  2. Sharon says:

    It is very important to keep records such as this. I am lucky enough to have a journal that my grandmother wrote for me. it was based on memories from her photos album.
    This post is about my Grandfather
    And this one about my Great Grandmother

    • Saronai says:

      I enjoyed both of the linked posts, thanks for sharing (sorry for taking so long to reply to your comment, I really did appreciate it, I love comments as much as most bloggers). Never having any such documents growing up, I most definitely agree with you about keeping records like this and your grandmother’s journal.

      They’re sorta like physical pieces of people in your DNA, you can reach out and visit them, touch their words, words they wrote. You can’t really hold DNA without feeling like you’re just holding yourself. Even then, it’s personable history, a type I feel is much more important than what famous figures were up to during their day. In short, even if they don’t share my DNA, I really like peeking at such records in other people’s family, including (and perhaps even especially) those in cultures that differ from mine. All fascinating stuff.

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