Grandy

Last Friday my grandmother, Sandra Waldman, passed away.

I was privileged enough to be with her in her final moments, but I won’t remember her that way, hooked up to tubes and machines.

I will always remember the woman with the hearty laugh and inappropriate jokes at the ready.

Wife of one, mother of two, grandmother of six, great-grandmother of three.

Who always had a present for you, each and every time she saw you. Sometimes it was a pack of M&Ms, sometimes diamond earrings.

Who loved to shop, but was also very responsible with her money.

Who was flabbergasted when the car dealership wanted to investigate her for drug trafficking because she and her oxygen tank walked in with $15,000 in cash.

Who didn’t trust banks.

Who introduced me to the Genie Bra and QVC.

Who taught me how to cook soup and lasagna and what turnips look like.

Who stayed a week at my house before I got married to teach me how to do things like use the broiler on my oven.

Who braved a cross-country trip to Las Vegas and The Grand Canyon all by herself with her 12 (me) and 8 (my sister) year old granddaughters.

Who took my sister and me on senior bus trips all around creation when we were children.  Native American pow-wows, Strawberry festivals, ghost tours of Gettysburg, we were at them all.

Who volunteered her time interpreting for the deaf and blind and could tell you how to say absolutely anything in sign language.

Who traveled all around the world.

Who always carried Big Red gum.

Who could cuss like a sailor.

Who was so proud to live to see her daughter earn a phD.

But was quick to joke about college professors, after all she spent 26 years as a secretary in the psych department at a college.

Who stayed with Nicholas for a week when I was in the hospital delivering Abby.

Who drove across 7 states with my mother and me to bring me home from Florida because I didn’t like to fly.

Who loved Star Trek and CSI and her Red Hat Ladies and reading science fiction novels.

Who could sew prom dresses for her daughter and crochet afghans for every grandchild.

Who collected tea pots and pewter figurines.

Who insisted on getting dressed up and taking us, as very small children, to see every play put on by the college where she worked.

Who loved clothes with bold, bright patterns and wearing lots of jewelery.

Who loved animals like they were people and would buy a dozen hamburgers at the drive-thru to feed her dog throughout the week.

Who would meet me at “our place,” The Papertown Diner, on Thursdays after we relocated to Pennsylvania. 

Who would happily spend the night with me and my very young children while Eddie traveled for work. 

Who might have been the first great-grandma ever to create a Facebook account way back in 2009, even if she did occasionally get confused and think she was talking to me on other people’s pages.

Who was, truly, one of a kind.

We miss you, Grandy.