After writing about my grandparents, who I was so fortunate to know, I decided to also write about my great grandmother. I never met either of my great grandfathers as they both died long before I was born. I did however have the privilege of meeting both my great grandmothers. Grandma Grogg, I met when we took a train trip from California to Ohio when I was about 6. But when we moved to Ohio two years later, I had the privilege to get to know to some degree, my Grandma Crim.
She was born Lorhetta Kilgore. I do not know if she had a middle name or not. I have no information along those lines and I have looked. Her date of birth is listed as either February 4, 1882 or 1883. She died when I was twelve on August 11, 1972. She married Levi Wyler Crim and they would have four children: Mary Agnes, Vera Mabel, James Eugene and Richard Samuel. My grandmother was Mary Agnes, her first born.
I remember her house first. It was a big old farmhouse with the coolest stairs that curved up into her upstairs bedroom. I loved it! I loved bumping down the stairs and around the curve whenever we visited. The steps were very steep, and I marveled how my great grandmother who was in her eighties could still go up and down seemingly with little difficulty. I think she just made it look that way. And her bedroom was full of all manner of interesting items from her life. It felt like a secret room filled with treasures.
Anytime we went out to visit she always had ice cream for us. It was her thing to offer to her grandchildren. I remember the first summer I lived in Ohio, we had gone to visit her and for reasons I won’t go into, I ended up in a large nettle patch. I discovered very quickly that I was very sensitive to the sting of nettles and I ran back to my grandma crying because it hurt so bad! She asked me why in the world would I play in a nettle patch…when she discovered who suggested I do so, knowing I had no clue about nettles as I was fresh from Los Angeles…HOO BOY! I was glad I wasn’t them. She was a tiny woman, but she held her own against anyone who would do harm to another person. But before she gave them what for…she took care of me. I do not know what she used but it was some kind of powder and it took that sting away immediately. I remember being in awe of her because she made it all better in what seemed like seconds.
Once I was treated, she decided it would be best for me to stay indoors so I would not get into anything that might hurt me. So, she let me play with her collection of salt and pepper shakers in her front parlor. A place that was completely off limits to anyone. Unless of course she invited you in. It was the spot in her home that was always immaculate and ready for company at any time. Or at least that was the way it always seemed to me. And so, I played with all her salt and pepper shakers making up stories about each of them. I was quite content. My mom was shocked to see me in there and told me later that my grandmother must have trusted me because no one was allowed in that room and no one was allowed to touch her saltshakers! Whether that was true or not, it made me feel special which was something I needed in our first summer in Ohio. And maybe that was what my grandmother recognized.
One other memory of her that stands out was something that happened shortly before she died. She was living with my grandmother, her oldest daughter at the time. She had hardening of the arteries and her memory was pretty gone by then. She had been in several nursing homes, and each had sent her home because she was causing problems. Which was hard to believe but was true, nonetheless. Anyway, I was sitting at my grandma’s kitchen table, and my great grandma was across from me. We were the only ones around and she looked at me and began talking to me just like she was when I first met. She was asking me questions about school and how I was doing and it was wonderful and then just as quickly as the veil was lifted, the veil came back down, and she was back inside herself. Those few moments were a precious gift that I still think about occasionally.
My grandparents all taught me just by being themselves, the importance of family, of living life to its fullest, and faith. I was very blessed to know them. But I think the biggest lesson I learned and has helped me in many instances is the simple fact they were both/and. I learned very early that people are complex. Asking questions before rendering a verdict about someone is not just helpful but vital. Digging deep may offer an understanding into who they are and why they react in certain ways that help you understand their behavior. I am grateful for the opportunity I had to get to know my grandparents and the lessons I received from them as I watched them just be themselves. It has helped me see the both/and reality we all live in day to day in every relationship.
Peace,
Beth
Beth's Blog 