My Grandma Weston

By: Mary Wever

 

 

         I loved living in Downtown DeWitt.  I actually have very vivid memories of living there.  I mostly have memories of my Grandma Weston.  I loved her so much that I actually just gave my son her last name as his middle name.  Jacob Weston Wever.  And believe it or not, I actually think about her and smile every time I say his whole name out loud.

         Grandma always had ice cream, Push-Ups, and flavored ice in the freezer on her screened in porch.  But that’s not the reason I liked to go there (though it was a real benefit).  I just liked to be with my grandma because she paid attention to me and treated me like a real person (not like a little kid like everyone else).  

         Her house had a distinct smell to it.  I don’t know how to describe it.  It smelled a little like mothballs, clean linens, dirt, humidity, and whatever she was cooking.  Now that I’ve written that down, it sounds disgusting.  Well, it wasn’t.  It smelled like home, it smelled like acceptance, it smelled like warmth, and it smelled like heaven.

         My grandma let me have friends over to her house like it was my own.  I remember one summer during the drought of ‘88 when it was too hot to be outside.  I loved to watch The Sound of Music (I actually knew, and know, every single word to every single song… and every word of the entire movie).  So, I would invite my friend, Sami, down to my grandma’s house.  She lived about two blocks away.  Sami and I would watch The Sound of Music over and over throughout the summer.  I remember singing the songs at the top of our lungs.  If one of us would say a word wrong as we were singing or saying the dialogue, we would call each other out on it and giggle.  

         You would think that watching the same movie over and over would drive a kid crazy, but it didn’t.  We looked forward to watching that movie every single day.  If Sami’s mom would call her to go home, we would just pause the tape and pick up where we left off the next day.  All the while, my grandma would be in the kitchen with her friends chatting; she would be folding laundry, chasing around my little brother, cooking, or eating blueberries in milk with crushed saltine crackers (ewwww!).  I always knew she was there even if she wasn’t in the same room.

     Now that I think about it, I can’t believe my Grandma let us watch The Sound of Music that much.  I hate it when my kids watch the same thing every day (and that’s Spongebob… and not even the same episode).  I can’t imagine if they wanted to watch the same movie every day!  You know what though, that is one of the fondest memories I have of growing up, so I’m so glad she let us do it.  And even if she was annoyed, she didn’t show it.  When she would walk through the room, she would join in singing along with us.  

         Though my grandma is gone and it brings tears to my eyes to even think of her, I’m reminded of her love every single day my mother is with my sons.  Her house may not smell the same; and my boys may not watch The Sound of Music repeatedly.  But the way she shows respect and accepts each of my boys for who they are reminds me of the time I spent with my grandma.  She lives on in my mom, and I’m so grateful that my children are fortunate enough to experience the same warmth and acceptance I did with my Grandma Weston.