Chasing Down the Muse: Summer evokes memories of grandma

Grandmas don’t just say “that’s nice” — they reel back and roll their eyes and throw up their hands and smile. You get your money’s worth out of grandmas.” (Author unknown)

Summers and grandmas just go together. Both are swell.

I was reminded of this recently when, after spending a wonderful day with my youngest grandson, Felix, I ran into Marcia Yury and her granddaughter at the Sawdust Art Festival. They were clearly enjoying their time together, and it started me thinking about the special relationships grandmothers can have with the children of their children.

When I was growing up as the eldest of — ultimately — four children, alone time of any kind with another person was to be relished. Summer time with my grandmother was especially sweet.

For most of my childhood, my grandparents lived inland above San Timoteo Canyon. It felt just removed enough there to imagine it as wilderness. On hot summer nights at their house, I would fall asleep to the soothing sound of trains traveling below — wondering, as I drifted off, where they were from and where they were going.

Daytimes, while sweltering, were often spent roaming their orange grove or picking the blackberries that grew wild at the edge of the grove. The freedom to pluck an orange or tangerine from a nearby tree for a snack was titillating, and I would return to the house with sticky hands, forearms and face nearly every day.

Midday, my grandmother would call me in from my wanderings for lunch, and she and my grandfather and I would sit down together and talk about the day thus far. Afterward, I could read quietly in the cool of the house or out under a tree.

Often, my grandmother and I would spend this afternoon time sitting at the piano while she played and we sang old songs together. “Mommy” — as my grandmother was called by all of us — as a young woman had played piano at a movie house. Hard to believe now, but in those days there was no soundtrack for the jerky black-and-white films shown. She provided the only sound. I loved hearing these stories as we sat together.

Late afternoon, I would walk the long driveway out to the road to retrieve the day’s mail before helping with dinner.

After the three of us had dinner, we would often spend time watching TV. I had no particular bedtime but would wander off to my room whenever it felt right to do so, after kissing each of my grandparents goodnight.

Memories of these summer times spent together have stayed strong. We never went to theme parks or other grand entertainments. The remembrances are of the time spent together, of the acceptance and the freedom. My fondness for these times, I think, grew out of what grandmothers are so good at: being short on criticism and long on love.

As writer Phyllis Theroux said, “We should all have one person who knows how to bless us despite the evidence. Grandmother was that person to me.”

My grandmother was also that special person. I can only hope to be the same to my wonderful grandsons.

Hurrah for summer and grandmas.

CHERRIL DOTY is an artist, writer, and teacher who embraces the mystery and magic of all that is life. She loves being a grandma. You can reach her at (714) 745-9973 or by email at [email protected].