Grace A. Poynter
Ms. Brandi Wallace
English 101
4 December 2018
Off to Grandma's House
The lucky few that have gotten to grow up with grandparents have probably heard phrases like “don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched” or “a watched pot never boils.” Fortunately, I was even luckier and grew up with a woman that frequently used phrases such as “I’ll knock you in the neck.” What makes this phrase even better? I personally have heard my loving grandma, Judy Eileen Walker, use this saying the most while backing out of a spot in the Publix parking lot. Though she has used this threat a lot, I thankfully have never seen her knock someone in the neck. This woman has been my homeschool teacher, personal cheerleader, and overall partner-in-crime all my life. Almost all my friends enjoyed coming to Grandma’s house with me because she was always so warm and inviting. My grandma is a remarkable individual, and because of that, I strive to be more like her.
Grandma learned to be tough at a young age, and the trait stuck with her through life. With four older brothers and three older sisters, being picked on was undoubtedly going to happen. Also, because she was the ninth out of eleven children, items like warm clothing in the frigid Indiana winters were not always easily accessible. One of her childhood memories involved getting a new red coat and how much she cherished it. She can still describe that coat perfectly because of how exciting it was to have a beautiful coat no one had ever worn before. Early in her childhood, she became incredibly ill with rheumatic fever, a condition that attacks the heart. Her father would not pay for the doctor-attention needed and it affected her health greatly. Thankfully, she recovered but only to find out years later that it still affected her as an adult. While being a wife to a slightly wild husband and a mother to three kids, plus any other nephews or nieces that needed a home, she had three open-heart surgeries. She has an artificial heart valve, and for me, that is one of the most soothing clicking noises ever. I used to lay on her while she rocked me in her glider, listening to the clicking of her heart. Her doctors always said she would not live very long because of her health. In 1995, she had to bury her son, and in 2010 had to bury her daughter. If I had to attend funerals of my eight siblings, my parents, and my two kids, it would drive me to insanity. Instead, she perseveres and carries on, inspiring people to do the same. Distress, loss, and depression are three feelings she is very familiar with, but she still shines a light so bright that even strangers instantly enjoy her presence.
Another reason my grandma is remarkable is because she is a kind, caring person. For a few years, she has mentored multiple young women who are incarcerated in the local juvenile prison. She visits them almost every Saturday, sometimes bringing them small gifts she thinks they may like. If they agree to it, she gets to talk about the Gospel with them and can stay in touch once they are released. Her heart is almost like a magnet, and she quickly attaches to many of the girls she gets to visit. Looking back, I realize when I was growing up that my grandma did not have to love me so much. I always thought just because she was my grandma, she had to love me. Maybe that is true, but she didn’t have to pour the extra love into me, like taking me out to eat almost every day and driving me wherever I wanted to go. Every day, my mom would drop me off at Grandma’s before work, and she would almost always be standing at the door waiting for me. She helped me with my schoolwork to the point she even began learning Spanish with me. Now that I live 300 miles away from her, I miss having a best friend to go to every morning. But almost each day, I receive a text from Grandma with a “Daily Bread” devotional and at least three cute emojis. She is definitely the most caring person I know, and would basically give anyone the shirt off of her back if they needed it.
One more trait that makes her great is that Grandma’s humor is tremendous. While playing Slap Jack and drinking a Diet Coke, my Grandma once looked at me and said, “Let’s have a burping contest.” Sitting there in her dining room, laughing so hard that we could barely sip any of the drink, we held a burping contest that I would remember forever. When she was younger, she and her siblings used to play in the alleys. When they would lose each other, they made this bizarre call that sounds like some sort of exotic bird. Now, as a seventy-six-year-old woman, she does this in the Walmart aisles when she’s trying to find someone she’s shopping with. The app “Snapchat” is a joy to have open around her. Once, we spent a moderately long time in the Food Court at Wiregrass Commons Mall, going through filters as she laughs about how big her dentures are. She doesn’t even think she’s funny. It comes so easily to her and makes me wonder if sarcasm was actually her first language. Memories like this, and moments like her accidentally burping oatmeal onto my hand while playing another card game, I will cherish just like she cherished her red coat when she was a child.
My Grandma is undoubtedly the individual I have looked up to in life. When I get into hard situations in life, I try to think of how she would handle it. I joke to cheer people up, give freely whenever I can, and try to lend open ears and open arms whenever someone needs to vent. Like all of us, she is still human and has bad days. However, she is still the most caring person to have around. She will always lend people a spoon to binge-eat peanut butter and marshmallow fluff whenever they have had a rough day.
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