Remember when grandmothers were, well, grandmotherly

“Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go…”

Whoa! Wait a minute. Stop the sleigh. If you are planning on coming to my house for Thanksgiving, you may have the wrong Grandma.

Perhaps it is because of the anxiety-filled world we are living in these days, but I’ve been thinking of my own grandmother, and wishing she was here to take charge.

They don’t make grandmothers like they used to back in 1930. For starters, you can’t pick the current crop out of a crowd, or in a police lineup, if that was your job.

My Grandmother Heagy looked like a grandmother. She had wavy gray hair pulled straight back in a bun, a soft rounded body, and she always wore a smile.

I’m sure she wore other things like dresses and aprons and coats to keep her warm in the Indiana winters. But they weren’t flashy or particularly stylish.

What I do remember was her cheerful presence. She never frowned or raised her voice. She was a hummer. She never hummed a recognizable tune, she just hummed as she went about her business — cooking, sewing, cleaning — grandmotherly stuff.

She was also a calmer. Three stomps on our heat register, and Grandmother Heagy would appear.

This needs some explaining. From the time I was a baby until I was about eight years old, we lived upstairs in my grandparents’ duplex. It was a wonderful arrangement for many reasons, but especially if there was a crisis.

For instance, if I had a very high fever, that called for stomping on the register. It was faster and far more effective than today’s 911. The signal was never used frivolously, so when Grandmother Heagy heard the stomp, she came upstairs on the double. Having had four children of her own, she knew the remedy for each crisis. She might advise a call to the doctor, but more often than not, it required only a few words of comfort to my mother and father, and a hug, kiss and rocking for the patient. If I was sad or distraught, there was no place I’d rather be than in my grandmother’s lap.

Shh! Don’t disturb me. I’m pretending to be there now.

P.S. If you are coming to my house for Thanksgiving dinner, don’t forget to bring the food.

Tags: community, seniors, money, health, travel