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November 12, 2011

Goodbye Grammy

Goodbye Gram. And it is a  'good' bye from this end.

I was at birthday picnic/breakfast for an artist friend of mine, Marsha, when I got a phone call. Josh Hanna was on the other end with an unusually somber voice. "Steph the base just got a call, there is a family emergency and you need to call your parents, or the Hamms." Even though the time difference is 13 hours I am incredibly grateful that I got to hear so fast no just for my sake but for my family that had to ultimately deliever the news.

The first thing that came to my mind was "Gram". Gram has had on going health problems on and off for the last several years (only in her 60's), complicated by one of the highest amount of cigarettes ratio per day her doctor had ever seen on top of a pain medication addiction. The situation was complicated to say the least.

I love my Gram, but the last several times I saw her I prepared my heart, because it may have been the last time I would.  
Gram and Me March 2010
When I was little, I spent most of my life living with my mom, brother, and Gram. For a great chunk of that time Gram acted as an extra parent when my mom was at one of her jobs. Mom often had more than one at a time, doing the best she could to provide for our home, and family. 

Gram got us up for school alot of the time. After we were all dressed and boots were on in the winter, she would open the blinds turn on the cartoons, usually Transformers or something like that in the early 90's era. Then she would bring us oatmeal before we had to leave to meet the bus. 

When we came home from school, Shawn (my brother) would go to his room to play video games, start his homework, or go outside if it was nice. I remember often I (or both of us) would go to the kitchen, sit on a stool, and she would have the chocolate milk ready. -Yes Hersheys syrup, to all you non-Americans- Later as I got older it was coffee. Chocolate and coffee should always remind us of our grams. What a sweet thought. She had hers as strong as she could get it with a lil milk. I know this because at time when she had sprained her ankle, I was destined to learn how to make percolated coffee.

After dinner sometimes she would bring us bowls of Neapolitan, or Chocolate and peanut-butter-swirl ice cream. She would be the one to turn the light on, and worry it wasnt bright enough -to prevent us from straining our eyes for what ever reason. Or if either of us fell asleep doing our homework or watching a movie, she was the one to find a blanket 'just in case'.

Our house was out in the middle of the country on the side of a slow sloping mountain hill. Tiger lilies separated it from the road, and bird feeders hung from the trees.  Her hobbies when I was little were the bird feeders, her gardens around the house, and potted plants inside the house. There were times we would sit on the porch for hours, because she knew what the essence of 'chill' meant, and it was about the only place we could sit in the open air (because cigarettes and my asthma didnt mix) and hang out. During school seasons I would tell her about my day, and friends. Many of them liked her quirky personality and cheeky smile, a couple even called her gram - and I was happy to share. When I was older we would talk about my job. Although she would forget almost all the details of my stories, she would often remember the subjects in them, and ask later how so-an-so was doing or what was going on. She would always be quick to take a side against injustice or struggle, whether she rightfully understood the whole situation or not. Like I said she was quirky, and funny. When she was stressed or upset her voice would crack, so the combination of her serious side and a squeeky voice would always lighten the moment... and allow us to laugh together in hard times. Whats funny is she would get stressed on your behalf even if you were ok. That was the sweetest side of her.

I know there is so much more sweet stuff I could share, but Im gonna have to stop there, because although there have been some good times, the shock of her being gone, the distance I am from home, and the hard times can have a flood of condemnation that follows. I have to remember that we did everything we personally could handle to do, and did we could in the time that we had.


Gram and Me on the porch March 2010.

Thank you to everyone who has prayed, consoled, and helped with and for our family over the last few years.Those of you that have served Gram, cared for her, and did what you could especially in this season.