Great Thing in a Small Package

Grammy with my now seven-year-old
brother and Poppy
    "Grammy is here!" my six-year-old brother yelled as the dogs started barking. Everyone in my family jumped up and ran towards the door to open it and move the dogs out of the way. My Grammy walked in the door first, arms already reaching for hugs. She is not a very tall woman, barely even five foot tall, so all of her children, as well as her grandchildren, are taller than her as adults.
    "You have got to stop growing already little man!" she said with a grin to my brother, who was already half her height. This is a phrase she said every time she talked to us. Now that I am already taller than her, I realize it was her way of helping my parents get us to eat our vegetables. When all my siblings got their hugs it was my turn.
    "How you doing honey?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around me. Her salt and pepper hair tickling my ear a bit as she leaned her head over to mine. 
    "I'm pretty good, but I'm pretty sure I'm taller than you now!" I teased. 
    She laughed before replying, "Oh hush up, great things come in small packages."
    
She really is a great thing in small packaging. Whenever I need a break from my family or work, I can call her up and she will talk to me for however long I need. At the end of every phone call, she invites me to stay a week up at her house if I ever manage to have free time. When I do go up to visit, it is a week to relax. She lives on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. This means that there is not much to do besides enjoy each other's company and go for walks. It is during such time that she taught me how to crochet, sew, knit, and has helped me bake new things. She learned how to crochet, knit, and sew from her mother, but when she had kids she had four boys and one girl. This kept her plenty busy trying to feed and raise five kids that she never got to teach any of her own kids these skills. They may not have been interested anyway judging from some of the stories I have heard from my Dad. My favorite of these stories being how he held his little brother, who was scared of heights, out a second-story window by his ankles. Stories like these go on and on, so she had her hands full. 

Grammy is now in her late sixties but shows very little signs of it. She walks several miles a day whenever the weather is nice enough, and still runs around and plays with her younger grandchildren as best as she can. The only physical sign that her body is slowing her down is an issue with her left knee. "It comes from working in that school kitchen for over ten years. When picking up big heavy pots to set down beside me I wouldn't pick up my feet to pivot, I would just rotate my upper body. You be careful of that now. It will save you lots of trouble in the future," She warned me last week while trying to massage out a cramp in her knee. When the weather is not so nice, she can be found in her sewing room. 

While I do not have a picture
of her workspace here is
a quilt that came out of it
It's a small room that is right by her kitchen. It is filled with fabrics of many different patterns and textures, sewing materials like pins, string, and scissors, and dimly lit with all the lights being focused on a workstation dominated by a fancy sewing machine. The walls are blueish-green but covered by a textured blanket where she can stick pieces of fabric to map out the pattern she is sewing. She typically works on quilts but will take on some smaller projects like potholders and tablecloths. Some weeks I have spent with her were spent sewing squares together, or helping her organize the squares to make the construction of a quilt easier. When she has had enough sewing she sits in her living room listening to the news and crocheting whatever fun pattern she manages to find. 

According to her kids, she is a lot different now than when they were growing up. Now she always has cookies in her house, lets her grandkids get away with little things like eating dessert before dinner, and is willing to play games whenever a grandchild asks. The mother they are used to seeing is a strict woman who makes them weed an acre garden whenever she could. Personally, I think they were to blame for that. How else was she supposed to keep four rowdy boys under control and stop them from picking on each other? "I did my job. I raised my children. Now I get to spoil my grandchildren," Grammy said at this year's reunion as she picked up my one-year-old cousin and walked toward the playground with him on her hip.

Comments

  1. AnonymousSeptember 8, 2021 at 8:34 AM

    I really like the story that you have chosen to write about. One thing I would add would be a little bit more description about Grammy, like what she wears and her age. You could also add a time frame so the reader can understand the ages of her grandchildren. I like the details that you have included about her height and her body language, which helps the reader to picture the scene. I was a little confused about the ending of the anecdote, maybe you could add a little more context about if you had discussed it in the past and maybe include a little bit more details about that in the beginning.

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