Memories

Today I've been flooded with memories of grandparents for some reason. One memory leads to another that leads to another. All are good memories - even the one's in which they were grounding me. Here are some of my most favorite memories of grandparents.

Grandma Spaid
She was deaf and because of that I think she had like 8 senses.  You couldn't sneak up on her and you couldn't mouth off behind her back. She always knew. 

She would sit at her dining room table for hours on end playing solitaire. She'd win as many games as she lost.  She'd pour herself, sometimes, a small glass of boxed wine and pour out dry roasted peanuts to munch on.  You could hear her shuffling the cards all through the house.  Sometimes we'd play double solitaire and sometimes she'd let me win.

I got in trouble one day - can't even remember what I did - and she sent me to the back bedroom with a fly swatter.  I had to determine which end I wanted a spanking from.  The psychological torment I had to endure. = )

Grandpa Spaid
Always puttering in the garage.  I never knew what he was doing, but he was out in the garage doing something. Grandpa could grow the BEST tomatoes ever. We'd have so many plants and so many tomatoes.

Besides grandpa driving me around on a banana seat bike in Albuquerque, I have a couple other fond memories of grandpa.

He'd sit at the dinner table and Snoopy (one of the beagles they had) would sit right next to him on the floor. Snoopy would hop up and nip at Grandpa in the ribs.  He would jerk and giggle and say, "no Snoopy." Never really meaning it.

He taught me to eat sliced banana's with half and half and a spoon full of sugar.  He also taught me to eat cottage cheese with sugar on it.

Grandma Wraspir
The most quiet, most giving woman I ever met.  She tried to teach me how to make cinnamon rolls.  I bored easily but she was patient.  I never did really learn.

She'd sit in her chair and would say, "Now papa" every time Grandpa would start in on something with us kids.

She raised a gaggle of kids, some her's some not her's. She didn't care, she loved them all the same.

Grandpa Wraspir
Always had a story.  He could story tell like no body I ever met.  I would sit, sometimes, and listen to him. Often I'd get to tired of listening to his stories and would wander off.

Grandpa let me drive the car (before I was supposed to be driving) to the post office almost every day. This was before the mail boxes got moved to the actual houses.

I loved all my grandparents and miss them horribly. I'd love to spend just one more day talking to them and asking them questions about their childhood. I wish I could help the younger folk of today how important those stories will be to them as they age.