The last Sunday of every month was extra special to me growing up. We would meet together with my Grandma and Grandpa Smith either at their house, or at the Garden Center, and celebrate all the birthdays from that month. Most of my early memories of my grandpa are from birthday dinners. I can see him very clearly, standing up in front of all of us, naming off each birthday that had passed that month and asking people to share their special announcements, before calling on someone to bless the food. My cousins and I use to giggle and roll our eyes through his "speeches," but they are now special memories.
Grandma and Grandpa made each of us feel so special. They were there for every birthday, every concert, every major event in our lives. The first time my grandpa missed one of my birthdays was after my grandma died, and I was turning 18. He was on a trip to Nauvoo, but he felt bad about missing my birthday, so he brought me back a necklace.
I have several favorite memories of him. Once I was at their house, lying down on one of their rocking couches, and grandpa wanted me to eat a plum he'd just picked. I don't like plums, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He finally sat on me, and told me he wouldn't get up until I ate one. I probably would have had to eat one if my grandma hadn't intervened and ordered him to get off of me.
Another favorite memory happened in the summer when I was 10 or 11. I rode my bike (without permission, I might add) all the way to their house from our house in Centerville. My grandparents were very surprised to see me, and my grandpa insisted that I could not ride home until I was rehydrated. He brought me a large (and I mean large) glass of tampico and insisted I had to finish every drop before starting back out. And he sat and watched me drain every drop. I remember it took a while. I've never really loved tampico.
Every year for Christmas, Grandma and Grandpa Smith would buy us a book. After we opened it, we took it straight to grandpa so he could sign and date it. I still have several of those books, signed by my grandpa.
One year when I was home from college for the summer, my grandpa had bought a new house and was laying down sod. A whole bunch of my aunts, uncles, and cousins got together to help, and my grandpa nearly threw a fit when he saw the girls carrying the sod rolls. He kept telling us to let the boys do it, and was very put out when we didn't listen. That day happened to be my 21st birthday, and it's one of my favorites. Being around my cousins and aunts was always one of my favorite things--everything was fun with family around. Because it was my birthday, my grandpa insisted on taking my family (and, I think, Sharon's) out to dinner. He took us to IHOP.
Stacy and Lisa and I graduated from high school the year after my grandma died. My grandpa invited the three of us to come over to his house (he was living in the basement apartment by this time), and he talked to us about how pleased grandma would be with us for our accomplishment. He told us he'd set out some of her things on his bed, and that we could each go in his room, one at a time, and pick an item to keep. I picked a silver brooch. When I came out, my grandpa nodded in approval and told me he remembered my grandma wearing it.
Another birthday while I was in college, he called and asked me to come over. When I got to his house, he took me into his spare room where he had set up a picture of my grandma when she was in her 20s or 30s. Next to it was a wooden music box. Grandpa sat next to me on the bed in the room and told me that I was special because I had been due on my grandma's birthday (though I was born 4 days early on the 8th, instead of her birthday on July 12th). He talked to me about grandma, and then told me he wanted me to have something of hers. He pointed to the music box, and told me it played Ave Maria. Inside was a little note from one of my uncle's, a picture of the temple, and my grandma's letter opener. I've kept all of those things inside it. It is my favorite gift from my grandpa.
Another birthday--I think I was probably turning 19 or 20. (I obviously remember those better than my earlier ones)--he took me to the distribution center and told me to pick out any church book there that I wanted. I didn't want to get something expensive, so I picked a little book called "The Temple: Our Home Away From Home" by Ardeth Kapp. He got really excited (for him), and told me it was a good choice and since he knew the author, he could take me to her house to get it signed. I was immediately horrified. I definitely did not want to show up on someone's doorstep and ask her to sign my book. My grandpa insisted. He drove me up into the hills in Bountiful (I'm guessing he landscaped her house because he took me right to it.) I was ready to die of embarrassment. Luckily (in my opinion), no one was home. I am so grateful for this memory now!
One day, I was working the register at the Garden Center, but we were slow so I was sitting on the long, red counter they used to have there. Grandpa came in from working out back, and saw me. He didn't say a word. Just pointed one finger to the ground. I got down right away!
I always liked it when grandpa dropped in while I was working. He would give us hugs, and tease us about working hard. One day he was teasing me, and I noticed his eyes had a ring of yellow around the pupil, in between the black and the blue. I told him his eyes looked like sunflower eyes. He thought that was pretty nice.
When Loralee first moved to St. George, Grandpa and Susan and my mom and I drove down with her. After spending a couple days settling Loralee in, Grandpa drove the rest of us home. As we drove, he insisted on turning off at Fort Cove and showing us around, despite our protests. After this delightful detour, he took us to visit Mrs. Beezer. (I think that was her name--she was a friend of his that he spent a lot of time with after my grandma died. I'm pretty sure he proposed to her, too!) Anyway, while we were visiting Mrs. B, I was complaining about how stubborn grandpa is and how annoying it was that we had been forced to visit Fort Cove. Mrs. B told me how lucky I was to be making these wonderful memories with my grandpa. She was right!
I could keep posting memories, but these are some of my favorites, and this is already pretty long. I just want to say that I am so grateful for the legacy my Grandma and Grandpa Smith left for us. Thanks to them, my cousins are some of my best friends. Thanks to them (and some aunts and uncles), I had a way to support myself through college. I came to know my aunts and uncles and cousins so well through working and playing with them, and I am so grateful for those relationships and opportunities and memories.
Thank you grandma and grandpa, for teaching me about hard work and generosity. For making your family your biggest priority, and allowing us to invade your home with our noise and our energy. (Anyone remember that moment when Anne and Gilbert were reunited on WonderWorks, and we were glued to the TV in their living room? We were not quiet!) Thank you for those special memories!
I love you Grandma and Grandpa!
Note: These stories are to the best of my memory, but if I got the names/people in the stories wrong, please feel free to correct me!
