Monday, February 2, 2009

There is nothing like a dame...

My Irish-American grandmother was a real character. She was christened Elizabeth Irene Ryan, but came to be known after her marriage as Betty Baker. And Betty Baker, as my grandmother loved to say, was a dame's name -- Betty Baker was a 'broad.' Grandma was a dame and proud of it.

She was 89 when she died...and I was 20 -- so for all of my life she was elderly and for most of my life, she was in a wheelchair and almost completely blind. But these distinctions slowed her down not one wit.

I loved going to stay with her when I was very young - we would make sand tarts and watch Merv Griffin and Mike Douglas. She'd teach me songs from when she used to perform in Minstrel Shows back in the teens and 20's -- in black face, no less. Once she covered my whole face with black shoe polish and didn't understand what the big deal was when my Dad arrived to pick me up and almost had a stroke!

She was an uber Catholic and a Kennedy democrat. I once heard her tell the lady across the hall that if you weren't a Kennedy democrat, you might as well be a communist. Later that I night -- after asking my Dad to explain what a communist was, I heard him ask her to please "refrain from 'getting her Irish up' in front of his impressionable 8-year-old."

But that was Grandma.

When I was 10 or 11, Grandma had to move into a nursing home. And she was heartbroken. Until she got settled in and realized that their were now 100 or so new people that had never heard her stories! And half of them weren't Catholic!

So she spent her last ten years attempting to convert her elderly partners-in-arms, and rabble-rousing at the home. She also got involved in scary arts and crafts -- a doll she made for me during this time period sits on my nightstand to this day.

It was a bit startling to me to speak with a family member earlier this week and realize how little they recalled about Grandma Baker -- particularly with my memories so fresh -- so I thought I'd make a small list of Grandma-isms -- to remember her on this special day.

1. Grandma always called her sofa a davenport. I'm not sure why -- but I can hear her in my head saying that I "daresn't put my feet on the davenport."

2. She had the most beautiful hands. Her face might have been wrinkled by the time I knew her, but her hands were smooth and lovely, always.

3. To this day, whenever I get a whiff of Ben-Gay, I think of her -- severe arthritis made it her fragrance of choice late in life. She also used an abundance of "Shower to Shower" baby powder.

4. She could "put on the Irish" with the best of them. I'd walk into a room and she'd look up and say "'tis herself" as if we were in Belfast.

5. On Grandma's right foot, her big toe didn't have a toenail -- I'm not sure why -- but when I asked her about it as a little girl, she told me that it was what happened when little ladies didn't use their manners. For weeks, I'd check my feet each morning when I'd wake -- to make sure I still had all toes intact.

6. Grandma went to her grave convinced I was attending a Jewish college. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Temple University was actually named after a Baptist temple -- not that THAT would have gone over any better with her.

7. She had a weird tendency to whisper words that she 'thought' had negative connotations: "Ethyl has the cancer" ... "my new nurse is from Mexico" . Further she always seemed to put "the" before any disease: "the cancer"..."the gout"... "the arthritis"...

8. Once, during Christmas Eve dinner, she overturned her entire glass of red wine on her dinner plate -- and INSISTED on eating her food covered with the wine -- telling everyone that it "tasted better that way," and "you should all try it."

9. I can't use a packet of Sweet-n-Low without thinking of Grandma -- she would hoard them, and then give them to us as gifts in later years. I don't think my parents had to buy artificial sweetener for at least two years after her passing. She would also save paper placemats that had puzzles on them. Rolls and rolls of them -- and she never seemed to notice that they all had the exact same puzzles.

10. Grandma had a touch of both hypochondria and fatalism -- my ENTIRE life, every time I said goodbye to her, she would say "Give me a kiss, honey -- it will probably be the last time. And don't forget to pray for my eyes."

And finally...Grandma loved to hear me sing. When I'd walk into her room, she'd shout out "Sing Al Jolson for me honey!" And I would drop to one knee and give it everything I had, whilst she watched, with tears in her eyes, probably an old memory running through her mind ...

Instead of singing the famous "Mammy," I'd substitute "Grammy..."

"I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles my GRAAAAMMMMMY!"

Happy Birthday Grandma -- you old Groundhog you!

And don't worry -- I won't forget to pray for your eyes

2 comments:

Mike Anderson said...

Betty Baker was an American Original. I remember asking her how she was doing and she would always answer, "Not bad for an old duck."

She could eat like a Royal and drink like a sailor. And she was always willing to tell you what she thought.

But she was always willing to watch a good movie and try a new kind of beer. And I thought she was the "Cat's Pajammas".

Laura Stocker said...

Thanks for leaving a "memory" Uncle Mike -- so few people remember her anymore...

:)