One of the morning rituals when I would stay the night with Grandmommy and Grandad was getting up to help make breakfast. Grandmommy and I would cook different things, but there always seemed to be BACON. (This ritual might be why my favorite food is bacon.) It was not unusual for us to cook the entire one pound pack of bacon because I would eat most of it for breakfast myself.

When there were only a couple strips of bacon remaining (reserved for Grandad), I would always ask Grandad if I could have his. Often he was sleeping-in during these mornings, so I would rush to their bed and try to wake him so I could ask if I could steal his bacon. This is where Grandmommy would partake in my mischief because she would egg-me-on and suggest I wake Grandad by tickling his feet. WHAT TORTURE. After he was awake via tickle torture, he would still let me have his bacon. What a way to award the ornery kid of the house?!?

It is strange how these moments connect all of us together. Since Grandmommy facilitated this mischief with Grandad through me, it really speaks to how much they must have loved one another. (Especially Grandpa who woke to unpleasant circumstances and lovingly surrendered his bacon each morning I stayed the night.)

I remember dating Don in high school. His parents wanted to take us out to dinner. I was pretty shy so going out with J Clyde and Ellen Jayne was a bit intimidating. I do not remember where we ate but I do remember as we were waiting for our food
J Clyde leaned over to EJ and started to sing – and she joined in – so now in the middle of the restaurant they were harmonizing. Did I mention I was shy and more than embarrassed and horrified at that moment. When I went home and told my mom what had happened she gave me good advice – do not be embarrassed by what others do. She also said, if it is too much just excuse yourself and go to the restroom. In my younger years it might have seemed like I had a bladder problem – but as I got older I began to appreciate the the phrase “carpe diem” when it came to Ellen Jayne. She truly lived in the moment and because of that she lived her life fully which is a wonderful example for each of us. Love you EJ!

I have about as much musical talent as a deaf hippopotamus, but that didn’t stop Grandmommy from trying to cultivate some form of sound from me. She was determined to teach me how to use my voice to sing serenades. Anyways, there was a time when I was very young and she meant to teach me how to increase and decrease the pitch of my voice. For the life of me, I didn’t even understand the concept of altering my vocal pitch. Eventually, Grandmommy was reaching for ways to motivate me to learn how to sing and she stumbled upon the only thing that would motivate me at the time, a colored printer.

See, I was a child who was created lots (and lots) of Kid Pix artwork on both my parent’s and Grandmommy’s Mac computers. In fact, I was a skilled clip-artist for my age! At the time, I had only ever been able to print my creations in black & white. But with the prospect of a colored printer on the line, I decided it was time to learn to sing.

For the record, the original deal with Grandmommy was if I learned to raise and lower the pitch of my voice, she would buy a colored printer to enable me to publish my Kid Pix artwork. Seemed simple enough. I ended up struggling with the musical concept of pitch for most of the day. I recall singing “up the ladder we can go” over and over, steadily increasing my pitch. Although this feat was eventually awarded by my prized colored printer, in the process, we both discovered I was a lost cause in terms of singing. So, her attention for music shifted to other grandchildren while I was satisfied with my prized colored printer.

I believe it was around 1970, Ellen Jayne (mom) thought it would be a good idea to go pick peaches at an orchard in northeastern Oklahoma near my grandparents home. This would have been July or early August. I had to put on a long sleeve shirt and long pants to keep the peach fuzz off of me. You picked your own peaches and it was cheaper by the bushel. I climbed up peach trees and put the peaches in a peck basket and then emptied them into a bushel basket. It got hot quickly and I got itchy. By the second tree I wanted to quit. But mom wanted more peaches. I was miserable by the end. Hot and itchy don’t mix. After we were done we went to grandma Maris’ and had to peel peaches and cook peaches and can peaches. I had nightmares about peaches after that. I’m surprised I still like peaches today. Mom and Grandma’s canned peaches and peach butter were the best, but I never picked peaches again.

I always knew it was Christmas time, not because of the weather or the music or the discounted prices at every department store, but because of the hours of work that it took myself and my grandmother to make her special cherry wink cookies. It was a holiday tradition, as many other things were. The greatest part of making cherry wink cookies with grandmommy was that she would always pretend not to notice when I mischievously stole a handful of cookie dough during the baking process. She would simply turn a blind eye (well, at least for a couple of good bites) and then go about her business with the baking. Grandmommy had such a kind soul, one that was shed upon everyone she met. Making these cookies with her was just one example of where her kindness began. Grandma and I never just made these cookies to keep for ourselves, no, no, no. Cherry winks were the symbolic cookie of the holiday season in which my grandmother would pack up in Christmas tins and give to handfuls of people. Grandmommy was all about giving, she was all about sharing her love and kindness to everyone she knew. These cookies, for me, will always be a symbol of that kindness and love my grandma shared, a symbol of the holiday season, and a tradition that I too hope to pass along to my grandchildren. I love you Grandmommy, and thank you for always sharing with me your kindness and your love.

As you all know, Grandmommy loved music and enjoyed sharing that love with all of us. After Keegan and I had been dating for a while and I had been inducted into the family, Grandmommy got to know me and also got to know my mom, Patti. The two quickly bonded with their shared love of music. Not long after Ellen Jayne and Patti had met, Grandmommy invited all of us to go see the Mormon Tabernacle Choir perform at Lloyd Noble Center in Norman. She would bring George and we could all go out and enjoy the evening together. We did so, and that evening’s concert was quite impressive. But what left a more lasting impression on me that night was Grandmommy’s excitement not only for the music but also for getting to know me and my mom. Grandmommy always went out of her way to connect with others and to make them feel welcome, no matter the occasion. That was most apparent to me from the beginning when I met her. Her reaching out to me and my mom and pre-emptively welcoming us into the family by inviting us to hear some great music was just a small glimpse into the extravagant love I would be blessed with over the years. They seem too few now, but I’m so glad I got to share them with Grandmommy.