Tag Archives: memories

Names I’ve Been Called

When I was in elementary school,  I told my mom I didn’t like the boys because they were mean.  She replied that they were mean because they like me.  I replied, “Well, I wish they wouldn’t like me so much.”

That was when we lived in New Mexico.  In the fifth grade I got new glasses and a boy called me a ‘four-eyed frog’.  Didn’t remember what mom said that it might mean he liked me.  and EWWW.  So I took off my glasses and got called a ‘two-eyed toad’  Weren’t you a clever boy?

Still didn’t make me like you.

And not all males will call you names you hate to let you know they like you.

Gpa had some pet names for me.  None of them made me feel bad about myself.  Some of them I indulged him because it made him so happy.  Funny how a little thing can make a person happy.

The first one I remember is Laurala.  Ok whatever.  Though this one dissipated as I grew up.  It’d be nice to hear him call me this again.

Buttons is an inside joke.  We used to spend hours at the fabric store waiting on mom and Gma.  Once to entertain me, he had us figure out what the words on the walls were backwards.  So you may think it’s cute that a grandpa calls his granddaughter Buttons, but he and I know he’s really calling me Snot Tub.

I spent a week at their house the summer I had my wisdom teeth out. I was 16 and he was restoring furniture at the Blackstone hotel.  I got to help him.  I do know how to paint.  He started calling me Mosella.  Don’t remember why.  I think he met some sisters working there and liked how their names rolled off the tongue. My sister got called the other name.  I don’t recall what it was.  And don’t ask me to ask her.  She’ll likely not remember and bring up the time he slapped me.

And that was a  joke.  It didn’t hurt.  Surprised me mostly and the joke fell flat.

When he didn’t approve of what I just said or did, he’d say, “Now, Laura…”

I wouldn’t mind it if I heard him say that either.

One Year Anniversary and Counting

I have had this blog post hanging over my head for several months now.  Gpa died last year in January.  I have been dealing with all sorts of emotions and life events.

I haven’t wanted to talk or write about them.

The first year after a loss of a loved one is hard.  At times it is unbearable, but we bear it anyway.  At times there is surprise there is something to look forward to or laugh at now.  The first year can drag on.  Here comes another holiday or event we used to celebrate but now it’s different.

Then after the first year anniversary of the death, time speeds up.  This year, 2014, will be the 20th anniversary of my mother and grandmother passing away.  20 years! ? ! Where did the time go.  That can’t be possible.

And now for a whole new set of emotions and life events to deal with.  My grandchildren will only know them through pictures and stories.  And they live across the country.  I’m not sure when and where I’ll get to share all the things about these women I’d love for them to know.  And I’m not sure I have the words to convey the very essence of who they were.  After all, a lot of time has passed.

And how does one celebrate the 20th anniversary of the loss of a loved one?

Time Travel in Slaughterhouse Five

Time Travel described in Slaughterhouse Five makes me think “memories”  Though memories are better, you can choose when and where to go.  Billy Pilgrim couldn’t control his time travel.

About ten years after my mother died, Gpa gave me a tape cassette recording.  It was a copy of what she had sent him when I was about 3 years old.  Mom and my grandparents would send taped letters to each other.

I popped in the tape on the way to work.  Bad idea.  All of a sudden I hear mom saying, “Laura, Laura.”  She was trying to get my 3 year old self’s attention to talk into the recorder.

I was more interested in the ‘bebe’

Well she got my current self’s attention and I had to stop the tape, or wreck the car.

I never thought I’d hear her voice again.  I have the tape somewhere in the house.  We’ve moved several times and I think, I’ll find it and listen sometime when I’m not in the car.

But I haven’t.

Maybe it’s too precious.

One More Service

We had a lovely celebration of life on Sunday.  Everyone that came was able to remember Gpa.  However, this isn’t what he wanted. He wanted a service at his church.  He picked the pastor, the chapel and the songs.

I’ve been debating with myself on if this is something we are going to do.  I’m the only one in the family who is even thinking it is a possibility.  I’d really rather not and so sat down to see if the reason’s to do it were enough for me to go through the effort.

The service won.

1. Gpa wanted it.

2. I can honor Gpa by doing it.

3. His friends in Ft. Worth will be able to remember him and say good-bye.

So I made the call and will meet with the pastor on Sunday for a service on Tuesday.

And this morning, I thought of the best reason to have the service;

I’ll hear stories about Gpa that I would never know if I do not do this.

During the Depression

I was scraping the last bit of peanut butter I thought about what Grandma told me about the depression.

Gpa made $190 a year teaching and that only for the nine months he taught.  So in the summer he drove a taxi.  This was before he took the civil servants test and became a weatherman for the government.

Grandma loved to sew and she was very good at it.  Our clothes were fitted and lined.  She taught me how to sew and  I will always regret that I didn’t get her to teach me about altering patterns.

She told me during the depression, money was so tight, she even sewed underwear for her, Gpa and mom.  All I could think is that, my family would be very unfortunate if I had to make their underwear.

Once when mom was in high school, she and grandma were remaking / updating her dresses.  There were dresses everywhere.

Um, Gpa got in trouble when he made a comment on the number of clothes he saw.  I guess he thought they had gone on a shopping spree.