Listen to the audio version Jane’s essay.
The designation of Grandparent’s Day, the second Sunday in September, always bubbles up good memories for me. Though my grandparents have been gone from this earth for many years, they were a positive influence in my life. And simply put, without them I wouldn’t be here. Neither would my priceless stories or sentiments that are near & dear to my heart. Honoring them is not just for a day, but a way of life!
PLEASANT PLACES
My four grandparents were as different as day & night. Because my parents were very attentive to their lives, I gleaned unique & valuable lessons from each couple. At any given time, fluent Dutch was spoken amongst the adults, a convenient diversion to protect young ears from too much information. It would not be a normal Sunday if we weren’t rotating dinner between their homes. Each had their own quirks & traditions. I loved them all! Life is much more well-rounded, as a child, given the opportunity to relate to all age groups. Such was mine. Outside of my immediate family, my grandparents were the most important people in my life.
My paternal grandparents, Dingamen & Winnie, lived 10 miles from us in Orange City, Iowa, home to the much-loved Tulip Festival. Grandpa worked for Wanscheer Manufacturing & Grandma was a schoolteacher before they were married. The daughter of a business owner, she was prim, proper & intentional. They were married in 1911 when he was 30 & she was 29. Grandpa stood tall at 6’3” while Grandma was a mere 5’3”. My Dad was born eighteen months later. My siblings & I knew which cupboard held our treats. Bon-bon ice cream was always available too. They had an awesome gold leather hassock than spun. We would twirl ourselves silly just for the fun of it. I loved going upstairs & exploring old items in the attic. It was there that I discovered my Dad’s childhood iron bed. To date, it remains in our home along with Grandpa’s library table and their matching bedroom dresser & commode.
We ended our Sundays, at their house, by watching Lassie & then we’d hurry home for evening church services. Grandma once ignored the traditional Thanksgiving menu, serving everything us kids liked, including hot dogs. She also gave me my first 45rpm record… “Rubber Ball” by Bobby Vinton. 😊 When we visited, Grandpa could be found sitting in his black leather chair, with oak arms, reading his Bible. Although he “puffed” cigars & occasionally a pipe with cherry tobacco, he adhered to his never-inhale-policy. I only knew Grandpa as “retired” but he was not idle. He liked to tinker & experiment. He once made me lawn chairs for my dolls. When they visited our house, Grandmas would sit close to the piano & listen to me play.
Grandpa Dingamen & Grandma Winnie were 73, & 72, when I was born. Grandma had some hearing & vision issues. In her uncertainty, she shuffled when she walked because those problems made her a bit fearful. Ever so slowly, she started having memory lapses. But I knew her no differently & we loved her the same…even watching out for her. We sometimes helped with their lawn care & house cleaning on specific Saturdays. When safety became a concern in their mid-80s, they moved into a nursing facility 3 blocks from us. I well remember the day I dropped in for a visit and found Grandpa, in pain, crying on his bed. It was the beginning of his end. He died at 88, when I was 15, from prostate cancer. Grandma followed a year later. She was a breast cancer survivor but passed away from advanced dementia. They were married 58 years.
My maternal grandparents were Henry & Grace. They married in 1914 when she was 20 & he was 25. They farmed for years until Grandpa became a feed salesman. As the story goes, one of Grandma’s schoolteachers nicknamed her Jessie. And it stuck her entire life. She was full of spunk & a tad bit ornery. When my Mom was only 3 weeks old, Grandma helped round up the cattle while riding her horse side saddle…with her baby in her arms! Grandpa said she was going so fast that the horse’s belly was almost to the ground. Grandma Grace was a gardener, baker & seamstress, making the bulk of the family wardrobe. She recycled before the word was even used. She also was very skilled at knitting & crocheting. To this day, everyone in our family has heard about her mashed potatoes, cinnamon rolls, cookies, peach & rhubarb pies, watermelon pickles, & her infamous “tea times.” Their cellar was stocked with anything, & everything that Grandma canned. My favorite was her Bing cherries. Oh-h so delicious, & a real treat!
Grandpa & Grandma lived a block away from the high school so it was not uncommon for us to drop in during the week. We were acquainted with many of their neighbors since they had coffee together often. No fences separated their souls! My favorite memory of Grandpa Henry was him rocking in his oak rocker while hearing the cadence of his drumming fingers on the arms. (Much later, I rocked my babies in his chair.) His eyes were as blue as the ocean. He was diagnosed with cancer when I was 5. For two years, Grandpa lived in a hospital bed on their enclosed front porch. I remember his horrible bed sore & hearing him moan as he was turned. Grandma cared for him the entire time. They were married 47 years when Grandpa died. I was 7 & this was my first experience losing someone I loved. I hung on to my Mom’s hand & cried my way out of the funeral.
After his death, we took it upon ourselves to make sure that Grandma wasn’t lonely. We played Wahoo, Yahtzee & Chinese checkers together. Sometimes we took turns spending the night. I was quite young when I started rolling her hair on curlers before her weekly “comb-out” at the beauty shop. Grandma loved her two soap operas (child’s play compared to TV today), growing peonies, gardening, daily connecting with friends, & continuing Sunday family traditions. Sometimes I would sit with her in church. She sat in the “cattle shed.” Seriously, that was the nickname for the far back section of pews in the back of the sanctuary. I know not why. To my delight, she always had Dutch peppermints with her. One peppermint lasted an entire church service…if you didn’t chew it. 😊 We frequently went to her house on Saturday night to watch Lawrence Welk because we didn’t have a TV & we all enjoyed music. Small traditions define our daily lives.
I can’t recall when Grandma fought her breast cancer or had her hysterectomy. Things like that were not talked about, publicly back then. But I can still see her on the sofa with her swollen leg from lymphoma. I took care of her the summer I turned 14. When she took a turn for the worse, early that Fall, she still had some sewing projects cut out & ready to go. On September 10, 1968, I stopped in at the hospital to talk to my Mom because she was spending nights there. I heard distressing sounds & went to Grandma’s room. She was crying, “Jesus! Jesus!”, with her hands raised. The cancer had gone to her brain & she was in terrible pain. She passed away that evening. I think of her every time I use candlewick dishes on special occasions or look at her intricately crotched popcorn quilt on my wall rack. It’s because of Grandma that I was interested in sewing & baking. One of the sweetest compliments my Sis ever gave me was when she called me “Jessie Jr.”
As my senior year approached, I was thankful that no one close to me would likely die. Losing 3 grandparents in 3 years was difficult. My parents shouldered most of the responsibility as the finalities of their four lives played out. First, the traditional Sunday dinners started to fade…until they were no more. Then their homes were emptied & sold. That era of my life closed all too quickly! I am so thankful to God for the “grandparent investment” in my life. It remains a part of who I am. It influences my honey, my girls, & my 11 grands, whether they realize it or not. So, I honor their positions in my life by sharing the memories & the stories.
“The Lord is the portion of my inheritance & my cup; Thou dost support my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me.” (Psalm 16: 5&6) Whether or not your grandparents are living, they remain a pivotal part of your personal history. There is no perfect family. But certainly, we can come to understand our inheritance in Christ through generational influences of the past…both positive & negative. One day, the light turns on & you see that it’s not about what you receive, but WHO you know, & what you can give away. Helping my grandparents taught me to respect & value them even more. It taught me the blessing of serving. In turn, the education I gleaned from their lives could not be learned in books. I continue my quest to preserve my true heritage, a “red thread” that binds our hearts together for eternity. If you have living grandparents, take note, learn, & give that inheritance away. No grandparents? How about adopting one?
Immeasurable blessings are waiting for you both. This fading, Biblical generational principle is worth fighting for.
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