Know

I talked to Typewriter Grandma for hours today. OlderAndWiserToo and I went over to work on our project and got swept up in her stories and childhood. I felt like I was really coming to know her, and know her in a deeper and more intimate way.

I have always been great friends with Typewriter Grandma. I go to her house often and catch her up with what's happening in my life. But never before have I looked so closely at hers. Never before have I heard stories about her life in high school, wrecking the car or learning to read. I didn't know that she was always done up in curls, that she was shy growing up, or that she always wanted to be a cheerleader but just didn't have the guys to try.

But there were so many things she didn't remember. Details like what color her room was, or who baptized her. It made me realize that there are things I never want to forget. Or at least know that I have some place I can turn to find out. So tonight I redoubled my journaling efforts, jotting down a few day to day items and then taking a little time to write down a childhood memory.

I wish I could be transported back 60 years to a little town in Oregon and meet the young Emma Helene Joyce. What quirks would she have?

Delving deeper into her life also made me introspective. What things will my grandkids want to know about me? What is unique about me?

After I use a toothbrush once, it looks like a 3 year old has been gnawing on it for weeks. Call me gross, but the other night I was too tired to find my toothbrush (that's another thing, I'm a roving brusher and my toothbrushes often hide in the car, in the kitchen, in my bag, in my bed, and even once on the roof) so I grabbed on out of the cup on the counter. The next morning OlderAndWiserToo marched downstairs and proclaimed, "You are never allowed to use my toothbrush. I know it was you because look at it!" She held up the toothbrush equipped with bristles that looked like they were prepping to do a backflip off the plastic head. "I wouldn't care if anyone in our family used my toothbrush. Except you." Sadness. But I felt sheepish and sorry.

My favorite snack in the whole wide world is cheese and crackers. Cheesy crackers are second best. Seriously I would take a pack of Ritz and a slab of Cheddar and be content for a very long time.

I'm a neat freak. I can't sleep without straightening up my room, even just a little bit. I make my bed everyday and I refold the shirts in my closet at least once a week so they're all the same size in the stack. I only like piles that have the largest items on the bottom and the bottom left corner of everything in the stack has to line up. I like straight lines and 90 degrees. And yet I'm an art major? To blow off steam, I organize. Yes, it's freakish.

But everyone has a bit of freakish in them, and I'm learning that little by little by digging a little deeper into the little corners of my grandparents lives.