Grandmothers

Here is an installment in a series I write for my family. The series centers around the family and each facet of that family, from moms to dads to sisters etc. I dedicated it to my Grandmother, Alberta Jean Burkart, who passed away early this morning. I only wish I could have read it to her, but I know she's reading it in a much more peaceful place, a place that has a lot more Light. I love you Grandma, here's to you.

KB

Grandmothers:

the epic battle of her tender love to this world’s sinister hold

by Kyle Bullock

Grandmothers have a special way of solving the world’s problems. Part of their success is their diversity. Some grandmothers are edgy and hip, dying their hair and cussing at little league games. Other grandmothers are sweet and innocent, driving slow, baking pies, and cussing at little league games. Wherever your grandmother falls in this spectrum, every grandmother has a way of solving every issue one way or another. They are blessed with an incredible sense of compassion found also in mama bears and Oprah. They are sweet and gentle from a distance, but if you mess with them or their family, they’ll rip your heart out. And that is why grandmothers are the best.

As I mentioned, grandmothers are a diverse breed. They are worn with the years of life and all turn out a little different. But each can vanquish a problem no matter how big or small. Here are a few instances that a grandmother takes care of business:

FOOD: Every grandmother has at least one food they make in which they were divinely inspired by God to make. Most attribute the good old American apple pie to be a grandmother’s number one dish of choice, but this is not always true. They may very well have their richly blessed hands in something else, something subtle and yet elegant- like eggs.

True, it is hard to mess up eggs, but college kids and McDonald’s messes them up every day, so don’t think it’s something that can’t be done. The egg can be made into a myriad of divinely inspired meals; however, because my grandmother made them and I’m writing this essay, I’ll choose Deviled Eggs for the best egg dish on the planet. They are rich and delicate, not too thick and not too thin, with just the perfect amount of inside filling. But no matter how many times they show you how to make your favorite dish, it will never come out quite the same. Like watching a better version of Martha Stewart, you are dazzled by the presentation, but no matter what you do you will never make it quite like they do.

The best part about grandmothers is that they don’t know what utensils are. What is this crude instrument with prongs fastened to a handle? Use your fingers. Why cut your meat with a knife? Tear it to pieces with your hands like the ancestors of yore used to do. A spoon? What a funny name and useless product! Slurp your soup up like a beverage and for those with a harelip, use a straw. Maybe that is what makes their cooking so good. It isn’t tampered with the unnecessary utensil and filled with just the right amount of love.

MUSIC: Grandmothers and modern music go together like oil and water. They don’t. Frank Sinatra, Dino, the Chordettes, and anything that made its way through a fuzzy AM station in the car radio are the only things that survived in their world. Some grandparents might be cool with the 60’s and maybe even 70’s, but I have yet to encounter a grandmother who listens to the White Stripes or even AC/DC.

Don’t try to introduce them to new music either. It doesn’t work too well. You might be driving down the street when American Woman comes pounding out of the stereo system. You may even be dancing to it before long. Inevitably, Grandma will hear it.

“What on earth is this devil worship?” she asks.

“It’s American Woman, Grandma!” the kids reply.

“It’s devil worship is what it is. He’s just talking about sex. That’s all any of these hip kids sing about anymore with their baggy pants, always grabbing their crotch- sex.”

You cringe when she says the word “sex.” It’s like saying Beetlejuice three times or making a crude joke to your pastor- you just don’t hear those things! By this time, though, she’s starting in on the chorus.

“American woman… American woman…bleh. I can’t believe they put that stuff on the radio. You kids should know better because back in my day, the men didn’t do that sort of thing, they certainly didn’t grab their crotch, and all the men…” you change the channel and let it ride. No need to change her. Besides, you love her just the way she is.

Gospel music, golden oldies, and old Pentecostal preachers are their favorite stations. Spend an afternoon listening to your Grandmother’s radio station and you will find there are 14 variations of “Swing Low Sweet Chariot,” all which sport a banjo solo. If you want to melt the heart of your Grandmother, turn Frank Sinatra on and watch their eyes. It’s like watching them turn 20 again. Their eyes light up, their mouth turns a smile, and their shoulders relax. Whatever that man did way back when to melt their hearts still works today. And as you crank the oldies up, you see within their eyes a time when they were younger, and they were just as beautiful then as they are now. They have a point. Music today just isn’t as classy as back then- not by a long shot.

TECHNOLOGY: No matter how things advance in the modern era, technology will baffle the elderly. Statistically speaking, there is more of a chance that a meteor will crash into earth on any given day than there is a chance that Grandma won’t have a meltdown with technology. The main categories of concern are TV remotes, telephones, and new kitchen accessories.

You know when there is trouble afoot when you hear that indisputable sigh followed by a harsh cursing. “What the heck does this dang instrument do?” or “They don’t make buttons big enough”or“I can’t get this open.” You bow your head and head into the room to see what’s the matter. There will always be a need for technology to make bigger buttons, but even if the remote had three buttons the size of the TV itself, there will still be chaos.

“What is the matter Grandma?” you ask.

“It’s this dang soda can, I can’t get it open. The silly pop tab won’t undo itself.”

You smile. “Okay Grandma, I got it.” You pop the tab like it was no problem.

Flustered, she waves her hands around shouting, “Thank you, darling. These stupid cans just never do what I need them to. They didn’t use to be like this you know. Back in my day…” but before she can finish, she knocks over several cans which tumble to the floor. The pressure in the cans cause them to implode and coke spews from them like water balloons pile driving into spikes. You are covered with soda as are the walls, the refrigerator, the ceiling, the table, etc.

She looks up after the explosion, knowing she did it. “Well at least you have my soda still,” she comments as she grabs it from your hands.

Indeed, there are many more facets of a grandmother’s job that makes them who they are. They live in a time that is far from today. It can be frustrating, dealing with the issues that come up, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Deep down, you wouldn’t change her because that is who she is. She is Grandma. No matter where you are or what you are doing, being around Grandma fixes everything. That’s her job, and she’s good at it.

Grandmothers are diverse. Some are spry. Some are calm. But all of them cuss at little league games. That is their job.

Dedicated to my Grandmother,

Alberta Jean Burkart

December 25, 1930- November 18, 2009

A Christmas blessing and a Thanksgiving in my heart