Monday Memoir - Week 21

Welcome! 

This week we're talking Travel and Grandparents.  Come on by and take a look then post your own thoughts!  I'd love to hear from you!

1. Do you recall any outstanding family trips or summer holidays you experienced as a child?

2. Do you remember any of your four grandparents? Any greats? What were their names? Any memories that you have.




1. Do you recall any outstanding family trips or summer holidays you experienced as a child?

My family didn’t travel much. Personally, I LOVE LOVE LOVE to travel. We did have two memorable trips, however. One was to South Dakota. My father was in the National Guard and his group was training up in the Dakota’s. Mom rented a cabin there and we spent time visiting Mount Rushmore, The Fort (amazing buffalo burgers and pecan pie), and taking a jeep tour into the heart of a buffalo herd. It was a great time. I'm hoping to plan a similar trip with my brood that includes Yellowstone (a place we went on short trips when we lived in Wyoming.)  I remember thinking it odd that we would go when Dad couldn’t really be with us. He joined us on the weekend, but most of it was just the three of us.

Our other big trip was to California. Since we drove, we went to all the cool spots! Lake Havasu City, Arizona to see the real London Bridge and eat the biggest, fluffiest pancakes I have ever seen; Sea World in San Diego; Disneyland in Anaheim; Circus Circus in Vegas (saw my first real prostitute! She was in a skin-tight leopard suit, asked why we were there, and scared the dickens outta me! Funny what a young mind banks…). It was a fun time, well, minus the prostitute. I remember just about melting through the desert. We were driving and the car was overheating, so no AC through the desert. Boy was that HOT!

I hope my kids have tons and tons of memories they could write about. Which reminds me – time to start planning that summer trip.

2. Do you remember any of your four grandparents? Any greats? What were their names? Any memories that you have.

I remember three of my grandparents. I never met my Mother’s father. My mother’s mother was quite the spitfire. She lived to her early eighties, and I loved her dearly. She died when I was fourteen. Grandma Leona always had a feisty Chihuahua as a pet and lived in a small two bedroom home near the park in Ft. Collins, Colorado. I remember she always slept on her big sectional couch instead of her bed in later years, and that she kept a gun under her pillow. Her house smelled like sweet, hot tea. I wish I could have spent time with her when I became an adult – she would have had great stories to share.

My father’s parents are still alive. They are my rock. I adore both of them. My grandfather in the last few years has been fighting dementia, and it’s winning. Bless his heart. He was always such a worker and family man. He exuded quiet strength and could be counted on for anything. I miss him even though he’s still here. He doesn't really know me anymore.

My grandmother is my hero. She’s a strong, opinionated matriarch who has been my heart all my adult life. We talk weekly (I should call more), she’s a devout Bronco’s fan and a consummate worrier. Yes, that’s where I get it from. She has macular degeneration so she can’t see well and has poor hearing, yet she takes care of grandpa. She always say she said “until death do us part”. They are living in a retirement community and have just moved to a smaller apartment there where they can get their meals close by and she has some help. She’s beside herself with the move. Hence, my need to get out there. I wish they’d live with me, but that would require a trip across country that neither of them can handle. (Scotty – I need that transporter online, now!) A part of me will pass when they do. When they get to heaven, I can only imagine how quickly he’ll be taking on tasks and she’ll be coordinating the effort.