Gammee

Awhile back, I wrote about Nana. A spunky and warm-hearted lady whom I wish I could have known a bit better.

But my other grandmother was someone that I knew very well. And I loved so incredibly.
And though she's been gone now for 23 years, it is amazing how well I can still "hear" her voice as if it were yesterday, almost smell her scent, nearly still see her puttering around a kitchen. She was my Gammee.

Although I could write a book on her own life history, this time I am dwelling only on my own memories of her...from my own limited- but loving- perspective.

Gammee had a beautiful smile. She was tall, and had a hump to her back, and yet she still managed to somehow always seem graceful and stately. I loved her curly, red hair and the little "stars" on the ends of her glasses.

When I was very little, my parents and I would drive from Washington state, down to Salem, and visit with her and my step-grandfather, Bapa. I still remember being around age four...picking a low growing pear from her tree and sitting in the old metal rocker.
When they lived at this particular house, we spent a Christmas there one year. She gave me a musical jewelry box with a tiny ballerina that turned around and around.
I remember how she'd get down to my level, and really interact with me. Use her imagination.

"Just look at how vain that ballerina is...she keeps going around again and again so that she can see herself in that little mirror!"

Funny, how you can remember the most seemingly unimportant conversations sometimes. But it was of my first- and most treasured- memories of Gammee. I felt valued by her...as if, even at age four or five, I was her friend.

Later, their place was bought out and a big K-mart was built. But Gammee and Bapa moved just across the busy street, to a trailer park. And to my young heart, there was nothing more sweet and cozy than their little trailerhouse. I didn't think of it any negative way at all. Somehow, they always made room for us whenever we came to visit.

In fact, she'd always run out as soon as our car pulled in front of their place...a huge welcoming grin on her face. And as I openned my car door, she'd hug me and exclaim,
"My little Tammela!"
No, not my real name...it was just her special pet nickname for me. And I can still hear it as plain as day.

She didn't have a real kitchen at all...in fact, if you've ever seen the classic movie, "The Long, Long Trailer" with Lucy and Desi, than you have seen pretty much an exact replica of Gammee and Bapa's trailer.
Still, she managed to knead dough and bake bread, fry up Southern-style chicken, make cakes and fruit-filled jello. I'm even more amazed now as I look back. I have no idea how she did all that!

Gammee was also an incredibly talented seamstress. She could knit, crochet and sew just about anything and everything. To this day, I still have all of the tiny, perfect, little Barbie and doll clothes that she made for me. Little dresses with snaps and little Barbie coats with intricate buttons. To think, she would go to all of that work just for me...it still overwhelms me.

She was one of many siblings, and extremely close to all of her sisters. Every one of them had a relationship with the Lord. But goodness, how they loved to talk...I remember them getting together so many times and just talking away the afternoon on the sofa while I busied myself, the sound of their soft voices with their leftover southern twang having a strangely soothing effect on my young ears.

I also remember one special camping trip that we all took together, near a mountain lake. I must have been about five, and we pulled along our trusty Terry trailer, as always, while Gammee and Bapa hitched their own tiny camping trailer to their 1950's Cadillac.
One morning, everyone else was apparently going somewhere...perhaps fishing, but that detail is now lost to me now.
I walked over to Gammee's little abode so she could watch me for awhile. To my delight, she actually let me have my first taste of coffee! (Well, it was more like milk with some drops of coffee in it) but I never felt so grown-up in all my five years! She just always had a way of making me feel extra special.

My father, who had been married once before, and had two daughters- both grown, by this time. But I was her "baby-granddaughter"- the only small grandchild for her at the time, and looking back, I can see that she completely doted on me.
She also doted on my dad...her only child.

Unfortunately, she didn't dote so much on my mom.

I suppose that was the only fly in the ointment with my memories of Gammee. Even as a child it was not hard to detect the difference...and it did make me feel uncomfortable that my poor mom was slighted in her affections. I know it was not deserved. But years later, as Gammee's health declined, she came to live with us and mom devotedly took care of her and treated her with respect and kindness...and Gammee finally began showing more appreciation and warmth toward her. It was long overdue, but at least it had finally come.

It's still a mystery to me how someone so wonderful in every way would hold back on her warmth toward my mom- who is, herself, sensitive and tender-hearted. Perhaps prejudices that started early on as to my mom's so-called lack of domestic skills. But the important thing is that Gammee and my mom did make amends...did learn to love and appreciate each other in the end.

During these last years of her life, Gammee and I would also have long, wonderful talks. We talked about silly things like clothes and makeup...she would share special memories with me of her growing up years, way back when, in Oklahoma...and we would also have deep, meaningful talks about God. She honestly loved the Lord so very much. She may have been imperfect, but I saw a hunger in her heart for the things of God all throughout her life.

I remember that one time we quarrelled when I was a teen...and I think I made her cry. I never felt so bad...and it hurts my heart even now.
But overall, we had a very strong and loving bond...too many heart-to-heart talks to even count.

I was 20, and away, staying with a friend at college, when I got the news. Gammee has gone to be with her Lord, while she peacefully slept. And with her, went one of my dearest friends, and most treasured human beings. So many times now, I still miss her. I wish she was sitting beside me now, so that we could have one of our many special talks again.

Not only did someone I was loved very much, leave that day 23 years ago. But I suppose, also, a symbol of my childhood. Not all of my growing up days were rosy, by any means...but there were good things tucked among the years. One of those good things was having a grandmother whose eyes danced when she saw me, gave me special things made from her own hands, and called me her little Tammela.

Picture 1: Gammee and I (fortunately my legs are less knobby now)
Picture 2: A favorite pose of Gammee and Bapa, in their little trailerhouse.