Memories of Grandma Z

Ralph's mother died a few days ago. Tomorrow I will leave for Iowa for her funeral.

She was a small lady with twinkling eyes and a bright smile. She bore five children and had a huge flock of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. One of the great-grandkids called her Grandma Grape because she always offered him grapes when he came to visit. She taught kindergarten, was active in her small community in eastern Iowa, and never met a stranger. When she came for her last visit to Ralph, within hours she knew all the nurses on his hospital floor by name.

After Susan, her third child was born, she came down with rheumatic fever. The doctor told her she couldn't have any more children, but after a few years of good health, he agreed she could get pregnant again and she had two babies in rapid succession. Carol was the older of the last two children, she was Ralph's stem cell donor, and I fully believed she was born to save her brother's life. She would have, too, for the transplant was successful, but other medical accidents depleted whatever reserves of strength he had.

Ralph's favorite story about his mother concerned the summer he, his sister, and some neighborhood kids formed a secret club. They had a clubhouse in the back yard. Suddenly they began finding anonymous notes in the clubhouse. They couldn't figure out who left them. After a couple of weeks, the culprit confessed--it was Mom.

She was a feisty lady, very independent. When her daughters decided it was time for her to stop driving, they knew they were in for a battle, so they insisted that Ralph, who was then in the hospital, call and tell her she had to give up her driver's license. They figured since he was ill, she wouldn't be able to argue with him. They were right.

After she lost her driving privileges, she acquired a little scooter and would zip around town on it. That's how I like to remember her. She will be missed.