What Is A Grandma?

Grandmothers come in all sizes and different personalities. One thing is certain, they earn their title. They made a committment to love and nurture their family and by virtue of that fact alone, they became grandmothers.

I come, as most do, from a long line of grandmothers. My great great grandmother Elizabeth Vancel Richardson Brewster, "Little Grandma," was born in 1833 in Illinois. We are still trying to piece together her history, but she married a Richardson who was a musician and they had one child, my great grandmother Pricilla Ann. Mr. Richardson died or was killed, we think, and then she married David Brewster. I remember my mother talking about "Little Grandma," and as you can see from her photo, she was little, only about 4'10". Even though she had a severe look, she knew well how to take care of her family. It is said she was about 1/4 Native American and knew many cures and healing ways. I think all my family's dark brown eyes came from her genes.This four generation photo was taken about 1910. Little Grandma Brewster would have been about 77 years old. Behind her is my great grandmother Pricilla Ann Richardson McKee. On the left standing is my grandmother's oldest sister Clara McKee Fenderson, and in the middle is her oldest daughter Marie Fenderson.

Great Grandma McKee was a large woman, and well she should have been after bearing 14 or more children. She was the salt-of-the-earth type woman who raised her family in Iowa and Missouri. A farm woman, hard work of cooking, cleaning, washing, sewing and agrarian duties occupied most of her day. She was born March 12, 1859, in Springfield, Illinois...probably not far from the home of President Abraham Lincoln, who lived there from 1837 until 1861. She was a child during the Civil War. She married my great grandfather Jonathan McKee in 1876, and eleven of her children lived to be adults.

My Grandmother, Bertha Loretta McKee Berch, was the eighth child. Grandma Berch was the most loving and kindest woman I have ever known. She was born January 5, 1891 (118 years ago tomorrow), in Persia, Harrison County, Iowa. Life was not easy at the turn of the century in middle American, but she and all her brothers and sisters were able to grow and have families of their own. When Bertha was a little girl, she would cry each time another baby was born to her mother and if she would see her parents retire to the same bedroom, she would bawl, "No, no, not another baby!!"

How I loved my Grandma Bertha, although I didn't see her often after I was six. We moved away from California and so mostly I got letters or postcards from her. She always sent a couple of dollar bills and signed my birthday cards with hugs and kisses (XXX OOO). Although a symbol, I could feel her love and feel her arm around me. We would visit California for Thanksgiving or Christmas once a year and then I would renew my acquaintance with her. Grandma would cook for everyone, especially me and my cousins...lots of french fries...and just kept them coming until we said "enough." She made the greatest buttermilk pancakes and how I loved her fried chicken. When we kids would get out of line, she would scold us and sometimes thump us on the head with a thimble. It seems she was always mending or busy with her hands. Once she came back to St. George with us for a visit. I can still remember riding in the back seat with Grandma, thinking we were bringing the greatest treasure home. We sang "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain," "When It's Springtime in the Rockies," "Down By the Old Mill Steam," and many other songs along the way.

Grandma didn't ever take me to a movie or play many games that I can remember. I think maybe we played cards or a board game a few times and she was good for a couple rounds of Hide and Go Seek with me and my cousins. Mostly, she was just Grandma. She had a million dollar smile and I enjoyed just being in her presence and hearing about "the good old days." She would give me little handkerchiefs to carry in my purse and remind me how to be a lady when I blew my nose. And yes, she encouraged me to always wear clean underwear! One of the best or worst things about visiting with Grandma, was sleeping in her bed. It was great when my cousins Steven and Rhonda got to pile in and sleep together; but there wasn't really much sleeping for me, as Grandma was a terrific snorer! She could really saw the logs! How did I know my mother and I would eventually follow in her footsteps?? Ha! Ha!

My Mom was a wonderful grandmother, although a majority of the years my children were small, she lived in St. George and we lived in northern Utah. Still, there were visits to her house several times a year and it was a real treat when she would come to Salt Lake and stay with us for a week. Mom was one of those people who are really "with you" when they are with you. You had her full attention; she listened to what you were saying and her mind wasn't on something else. She made my children and her grandchildren feel like they were the most important things in her life, and they were. How she loved little Camille and Benny. Later when Zachary came along, he was her little man. She cared for him and Benny for seven weeks when Zach was 18 months old and Benny was about seven. I was in and out of the hospital and too ill to be a mom.

Mother was born September 3, 1913, in Persia, Iowa. She was the second of seven children and the oldest daughter. She was a hard worker and knew how make and do everything. Mom was a wonderful cook. She was so organized and always kept a clean house. There was a place for everything and everything in its place. I wish more of her skills in this area had rubbed off on me. Mom loved poetry and drama and encouraged me in public speaking and memorization. When she was a school teacher, her students loved her but she was strict and boy did her students know the parts of speech and punctuation! She was an expert at crocheting and embroidery. I treasure each little doily or article she made with her own hands.

Grandma Beulah didn't take her grandkids to the circus, but she walked with them to the park; she never had any big super-activities, but she read to them. When she was around, it was a true joy for her to tend her babies. No one could love her grandchildren or step-grandchildren more. Thanks, mom.

I've been thinking about my role as grandmother and sometimes I think I have to do all this "stuff" to make my grandkids happy. I truly enjoy doing things with and for them, but I am feeling more and more like it's okay just to be "grandma." Grandparents can be near or far, or even have passed away, but they are part of us and help us know who we are. We can see them often or occasionally, or perhaps we didn't know them at all in this life. But they are ours and we are theirs, forever. They have blessed my life in ways I don't even realize. I'm so grateful for my grandparents, the ones I have known personally and the ones I haven't. I love them the same and honor their lives and their memory.

(Another time I will write a little about my paternal grandmothers.)