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reymonkeyI got a phone call this evening from my parents, to let me know that Bev passed away from a stroke. I haven't broken down over it or anything yet, because I needed to make dinner and I'm being practical, and I think she'd approve of that.
I never really knew my own grandparents real well, since they lived across the country and we visited maybe every five years. The other family I grew up with around, the Schultzes, their kids set of grandparents visited them more often, and sent gifts every Christmas. Somewhere early on Diane's mother, Hana & Lila's grandmother, found out my grandparents were far off and decided that she needed to play surrogate. She always made sure to send me gifts too, and brought gifts when she visited. Not just 'oh there's an extra child better get them something' gifts, but real 'what does she like, what won't she have' stuff. She got me horse figurines a lot, some of which I still have. One time when she got pencils with Hana & Lila's names on them, she got a batch for me too. My real name has a slightly weird spelling and I was so thrilled that these personalized pencils had it spelled right.
When I was in High School, after her husband had passed away, she moved out to B'ham. I really didn't quite associate the childhood gifts with her, but I met her and she offered me a job washing her dog and doing some housecleaning. It was my first job, and I knew she overpaid me. When I ws asked to wash her dog and about to first meet her, having never known her well, I was told the dog was a french breed with curly hair. I envisioned this silly little old lady with a dog with painted toenails.
I came to her house, and was introduced to one of the sharpest women I've ever met, and also the smartest dog, who I adored. The dog was Rosie, a bouvier, which is french for massive and very practical despite having curly fur. I was told to bathe the dog in the tub, and the dog and I went into the bathroom together, where I tried to coax this 80lb unfamiliar dog that came up to my waist to climb in. I tried moving her legs, wary, and the dog never acted unfriendly, she just kind of gave me this 'you're kidding, right?' look. After ten minutes and no water running, Bev peered in and asked if it was going okay. She saw the situation, said in an authoritative tone, 'Rosie, get in the tub.' and the dog climbed in. I never had trouble after that. I swear that dog understood every word of English you gave her, and she once kept my nearly 300 lb boyfriend from approaching Bev until he put the hedge trimmers down. I used to dust and vaccuum the house, which was crammed with absolutely fascinating souvenirs from her travels with her husband, and after I did the chores and before I went home she'd make me tea or whatever, and we'd sit and she'd tell me stuff about her past. Not detailed, nostalgic reminisces really, but clipped practicalities that always hinted at a lifetime of stories untold. I learned about a woman who was practical, strong, straightforward, and sharper than a lot of people I've met. Rosie remains the smartest dog I've ever met, and I still remember the cat Zipper, who was indifferent to people but had a serious shoe fetish.
She got a computer and had my dad and Mike, her former son-in-law teach her about email. Once she learned it the first time, she was good to go. I think she pretty much figured out basic image stuff on her own.
Rosie died when I was in college, and Bev's physical health started to go downhill some, but her mind was just fine. Even after I moved away my parents would take her out to dinner often and I got occasional updates on her.
I was told she had a stroke and it was all very sudden, which is exactly the way she would have wanted it. She left behind a cat I never met, who they're finding a home for.
I wrote a poem about Bev in college, which I never showed her. I wasn't sure if she'd be flattered or offended, and I feared her wrath if it was the latter. It was meant with the utmost respect...
I'll miss her.
Puzzle Box
I never really knew my own grandparents real well, since they lived across the country and we visited maybe every five years. The other family I grew up with around, the Schultzes, their kids set of grandparents visited them more often, and sent gifts every Christmas. Somewhere early on Diane's mother, Hana & Lila's grandmother, found out my grandparents were far off and decided that she needed to play surrogate. She always made sure to send me gifts too, and brought gifts when she visited. Not just 'oh there's an extra child better get them something' gifts, but real 'what does she like, what won't she have' stuff. She got me horse figurines a lot, some of which I still have. One time when she got pencils with Hana & Lila's names on them, she got a batch for me too. My real name has a slightly weird spelling and I was so thrilled that these personalized pencils had it spelled right.
When I was in High School, after her husband had passed away, she moved out to B'ham. I really didn't quite associate the childhood gifts with her, but I met her and she offered me a job washing her dog and doing some housecleaning. It was my first job, and I knew she overpaid me. When I ws asked to wash her dog and about to first meet her, having never known her well, I was told the dog was a french breed with curly hair. I envisioned this silly little old lady with a dog with painted toenails.
I came to her house, and was introduced to one of the sharpest women I've ever met, and also the smartest dog, who I adored. The dog was Rosie, a bouvier, which is french for massive and very practical despite having curly fur. I was told to bathe the dog in the tub, and the dog and I went into the bathroom together, where I tried to coax this 80lb unfamiliar dog that came up to my waist to climb in. I tried moving her legs, wary, and the dog never acted unfriendly, she just kind of gave me this 'you're kidding, right?' look. After ten minutes and no water running, Bev peered in and asked if it was going okay. She saw the situation, said in an authoritative tone, 'Rosie, get in the tub.' and the dog climbed in. I never had trouble after that. I swear that dog understood every word of English you gave her, and she once kept my nearly 300 lb boyfriend from approaching Bev until he put the hedge trimmers down. I used to dust and vaccuum the house, which was crammed with absolutely fascinating souvenirs from her travels with her husband, and after I did the chores and before I went home she'd make me tea or whatever, and we'd sit and she'd tell me stuff about her past. Not detailed, nostalgic reminisces really, but clipped practicalities that always hinted at a lifetime of stories untold. I learned about a woman who was practical, strong, straightforward, and sharper than a lot of people I've met. Rosie remains the smartest dog I've ever met, and I still remember the cat Zipper, who was indifferent to people but had a serious shoe fetish.
She got a computer and had my dad and Mike, her former son-in-law teach her about email. Once she learned it the first time, she was good to go. I think she pretty much figured out basic image stuff on her own.
Rosie died when I was in college, and Bev's physical health started to go downhill some, but her mind was just fine. Even after I moved away my parents would take her out to dinner often and I got occasional updates on her.
I was told she had a stroke and it was all very sudden, which is exactly the way she would have wanted it. She left behind a cat I never met, who they're finding a home for.
I wrote a poem about Bev in college, which I never showed her. I wasn't sure if she'd be flattered or offended, and I feared her wrath if it was the latter. It was meant with the utmost respect...
I'll miss her.
Puzzle Box
