My mom and my mom's mom and my mom's mom's mom...

For most of my childhood, my Grandma (my mom's mom) lived in Iowa. She married Grandpa Bud when I was about 6 years old and moved to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I remember the day it finally clicked with my little sister that Grandma lived in Cedar Rapids...not See the Rabbits.

Grandma is the one who taught me to crochet. I was seven. Every visit I would dutifully make sure I brought my crocheting hooks and some yarn so I could sit next to Grandma on the couch and watch her hands fly making stitches while I patiently waited for my hands to learn to move just as fast.

Grandma always made our favorite foods when we visited--homemade ice-cream, chicken salad, cookies, cucumber salad, roasted mushrooms. She also had itty-bitty cans of soda, which I was so excited about.

Grandma remembered the names of my friends, what I did as extra-curricular at school, and what books I'd been reading. She brought little gifts when she visited--yarn, newspaper clippings she thought we should read, books, pictures, treats--things that she saw and thought of us.

My Mama (Grandma's mom) lived in Florida my entire growing up. We didn't get to see her very often, but my parents made sure we made trips every 3 years or so to see her.
Mama and I were pen pals as soon as I could write sentences. Every other week I'd either be mailing or receiving a letter. When we visited, Mama made root beer floats. She'd show us quilts she was making or afghans she was crocheting. She'd bring out old pictures and tell us stories about when my mom was a baby (which was so hard to visualize!) and stories of the Papa (her husband) that we never got to meet because he died before I was born. When Mama moved to Illinois in 2003, we'd visit her at the nursing home and Elisabeth would entertain her with dancing and songs. She lived to be 94 years old. She had the softest skin and the prettiest hair.

When I was little, I wrote a story about my Mom. In it I said she was over 7 feet tall. Since she is barely over 5 feet, she must have liked feeling tall for once.

One of my first memories involving my mom was when I was three. (I think I might have shared this with you all already before) It was bath time and my little sister, Terra, was crying from our bedroom. My mom told me to take all my clothes off and wait for her before I climbed in the tub. I was almost done taking my clothes off, when my mom brought the cranky Terra into the bathroom and told me to get in the tub. I looked down at my socked feet and said, "But, Mom..." "Ginny, I said get in the tub." Ever the diligent child, I got in the tub, with my socks on. As my mom started shampooing my hair, she looked at my feet. "I tried to tell you my socks were still on." I got to take the entire bath with them on.

My mom was always the first one up (something my children do not experience often). Even if I was up earlier than normal, my mom was up with coffee in hand. She was always smiling a hello, asking how I slept--even when I refused to answer or would only growl a response. (I've never been a morning person). When my mom slept in, we all knew she was ill. Then, of course, there was panic since moms are never to be ill.

My mom was the mom who drove everyone to school--us, our friends, our cousins. She was everyone's emergency contact. She was the one who opened her house to the entire neighborhood so she didn't have to worry about where we were going or who was watching us. My mom was the disciplinarian to everyone. My ornery cousins were good at our house because they didn't want Aunt Debbie mad at them. She was the one who my aunts called when loose teeth needed to be pulled. And even though my mom was strict, my cousins knew (and still know!) that she loves them. She went not only to all of our school programs, but other kids' too. She was safe and even during the junior high and high school years when I butted heads with my mom the most, my friends sought her out to tell their problems and cry to, knowing she wouldn't make them feel stupid.
Happy Mother's Day, DebbieMom. I'm sure I speak for all your "kids" when I say how very, very loved you are.