The Courtside Wife: That's My Story....

I’m hanging out on Memory Lane for a few more days. If you’re not related to me, hang in there…one of these days, I’ll write about something besides my family again. (And really, how many of you reading aren’t related to me?!?)

I love this picture. See the good looking guy in uniform on the end? That’s my granddad. That’s Aunt Ruth in front of him. Yes, he’s pinching her butt. No, he didn’t confess to that himself (not that I ever got around to asking him). That’s her story, and I’m sticking to it. Besides, it’s what I figured was happening when I came across this picture last year. It just fits their relationship. Not that I ever saw him pinch her butt in MY lifetime. That would have been horribly embarrassing. No, they just seemed to have a special kind of bond.

In fact, they even married another pair of siblings. Yeah, that probably had more to do with their special bond with those particular people, but you get the idea. And that meant that whether Granddad’s family was having a get-together, or Grandmother’s family, both couples and their kids were there, so that bond continued throughout the years. Which meant that as I grew up, we had a special bond with Aunt Ruth also.

We traveled through Oklahoma often when I was a kid. I don’t think it was always “on the way” to where we were going, but we made it on our way. And we always stayed with Aunt Ruth (her husband died when I was still fairly young. I have only vague memories of him). I loved it. She had a closed-in porch on the back of her house, with a storm cellar and a fish pond. I’m not sure which fascinated me more. I was an east coast girl at the time, so I was not well acquainted with the idea of the storm cellar. And hers was serious business, with a heavy crank handle that opened and closed it, and big concrete steps leading down. I’m fairly certain we begged to have it opened every time we were there, but I can only remember going down there once or twice. It was creepy. And fortunately, we were never there in a real storm. (Not too many years after she moved out of that house a huge tornado wiped out entire streets just a few blocks away. I’ve always wondered who was living there at the time, and how grateful they were to her for having that thing put in.) The fish pond….well…it just amazed me that it was inside. I thought it was so cool, and loved to watch her feed the fish. For some reason, I also really loved her green carpet, and was thrilled when my first apartment had the same color carpet.

My brother and I saw the movie Short Circuit for the first time at her house. I remember that, because I remember rewinding and rewatching that laughter-on-the-top-of-the-mountain scene until we couldn’t breathe enough to laugh any more. Can’t remember that scene? Go rent the movie. Preferably with young kids who will get tickled and laugh until you all cry.

When I was in college, I spent a couple different weekends at her house. I wish now I’d gone more, but I didn’t have a car, and hated to ask her to drive up and get me. Once she took me down to the town my Grandmother grew up in, and we ate lunch with some of Grandmother’s family. I have some really special memories of my times with her.

Some people in my life have mentioned that she and I are similar. I’m sure it had to do with size. And spunk. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that she was “ornery.”

I don’t know if she was told that Granddad had died…she had been very much out of it for a long time. She rarely recognized anyone who came to visit her, and hadn’t been able to speak. But only four days after he died, she followed him. Maybe her spirit was enough already in Heaven that she knew he was gone. I wonder if she’d been trying to hang around so he wouldn’t be alone. I like to imagine that she walked into Heaven and discovered to her surprise that Granddad had gotten there before her. And knowing her, she probably gave him more than a little grief for going first! I like to picture her walking, and without her oxygen tank and tubes, and with all the pep and energy I remember her having all those years ago.