theyre random, and bejumbled, but im telling em anyways. think of this as my blog post, or journal entry. i dont have a paper and pen with me, and while the memories are here, i want to make sure i have them written down....
this was at my Grandma Elswood's house, who i wish we would have taken more pictures with when she was alive. Her house was so cool to me, all the old toys she had, she had a story for all of them, and i especially loved the ones of my moms....and just everything in her house, was so much cooler. it was just normal, old stuff, but for some reason at her house it was amazing to me. and i was always pretty sure her garden had fairies living in there. She had paths through the flowers that we would go through together, she would help me pick random flowers, rocks, and such, and we stuck them in a giant elephant ear leaf, and wrapped them up in it like a little package. i remember waking up in the morning, and going to her room and crawling in her bed to talk with her when i was really little, and then again when i was over my too cool for hanging with adults phase.
i have a random, but really vivid memory of her teaching my how to properly wash my hands, and i still think of her every time i wash them.
(i told you this was random.)
My mom's mother, Margaret, died when my mom was only 5, and this is Margaret's mother.
She came over to the US, from Scotland when she was a young girl, and she moved to wayne county utah, where, ironically, has been one of Dustin's family's favorite places to go for decades! i had no idea, until after i met him and went there with his family, that she had lived there, too. Since my mom's mom died so early, my Grandma Elswood was the only real bloodline connection to that side of the family,(besides uncle Richard Elswood ) all the family stories, and our history with that line, so it was fun to be able to find out more about them, through my trips with dustins family, down to wayne county. i was able to find out where she lived, what her family who stayed in wayne county after she lived there, did, where they died, etc!
i remember what i was thinking when we took this picture, i was somewhere between 12 and 14. i thought i looked so good with my sweet gingham shorts, matching plastic gingham purse, and matching red keds, it was one of the few pairs of "short" shorts i owned, because i was too embarrassed of my skinny legs, but i was excited that me and grandma would be wearing the same pattern. haha.
i remember on another trip, the summer i was going to be a freshman in high school, i went shopping for school and me and my mom had bought overalls, and grandma wanted me to show her what we got. She saw the overalls on me, laughed and told me i looked like a slave boy. She was always 100% honest with her opinion, and wasnt afraid to let us know what she was thinking, and i always valued her opinion...yet somehow i still wore the darn overalls.
When i was 17, a senior in high school, i went through a pretty rough patch, and my mom and dad put me in home school, and my mom took me on a trip to see my grandma, just me and my mom, on the 5 hour trip to sacramento, we talked, we cried, if i know anything about my 17 year old self, then i know i had to have gotten defensive at least once, and yelled. (sorry mom) and i remember gaining so much more respect for my mom during this trip, and bonding with her so much more than we ever had. she knew all the things i had done, and she just talked with me and helped me through it all. It was probably the first time i saw my mom as a real friend, not just a mom.
Grandma was 97 and in the hospital, we just sat in her room and talked to her for hours, went back to her house at night to help sort through her stuff, we knew she wasnt going to make it much longer. so we were getting everything ready for that time. then we would go back the next day and visit her. my mom had me tell grandma all the stuff i had been up to, and grandma let me know how she felt about that.
As soon as her nurse would leave the room, she told me, dead serious, that i should sneak her out to get some ice cream, because they wouldnt let her have any in there, she was 97 years old, who cares what she eats. (she had a good point). She passed away not much longer after that. and i really wish i had snuck her some ice cream.
i love this grandma so so much and miss her all the time, and i could go on about my random memories with her for ever
....random long, bejumbled memory...complete.
.jpeg)
