Sunday, April 30, 2006

Spring

                              

I was looking through the tags I received today and this one popped up.  My rambling thoughts went to my childhood.  I started thinking about spring.

In my life, Spring wasn't a season,  She was a person. She was my paternal grandmother.  She was an eccentric woman with scandalous ways.  I don't remember her hair being anything but gray and cut short. 

My first real memories of her were when she was living on Patrician Way in the western part of Pasadena.  The road to her home wound through the hills and to a house of wonder with canyons on three sides.  There was a Chinese Red gate with Chinese symbols on it, a front pebble garden with a waterfall and lovely little palms and plants.  We almost always went through the back door. 

It was a house of wonders for a small girl.  To the right as we entered was a room with what I always called a "princess" bed.  It was ornately carved and was so high that there was a special matching stool to climb up to it.  The room had a bathroom of its own and held many hours of imaginary play for me.

To the left of the back door was the laundry area.  There was a washer and dryer there.  There were always blood smears on them from Spring's Great Dane Shane.  Shane wagged that huge tail against the wall and the washers.  Under her feet were the 3 fiercest dogs in the world . . .3 tiny Chihauhuas.  They were the watch dogs and Shane thought she was a lap dog.  We stepped then into the kitchen and dining area to see the panorama of the canyons surrounding the house.  Spring would be in the living room, seated in her favorite chair.  The house was furnished in Chinese style (modern, I think it was called). 

Outside the windows behind her was a long wire . . . a chimp or monkey played there.  I wasn't allowed to play with him because he would bite, but I was fascinated.  I'd watch him and he would watch me. 

I wandered through the house discovering all the pretty things there.  It wasn't homey like at my other grandmother's house.  It was exotic, although I probably wouldn't have used that word then.  There was a chest in the hallway.  It had hundreds of little drawers and Chinese symbols all over it.  It always held my attention for a long time.  There was a special way to open the little doors and drawers.   After the chest was a room with bunk beds in it.  It had a sliding glass door to the back yard.  Spring was having some construction done out there and was keeping it a secret. 

Further down the hall was Spring's room.  It was huge!  Everything in it was huge.  She had her own bathroom there.  The other bathroom was in the hallway.  Spring had a lot of beautiful chunky jewelry.  Her favorites were squash blossom sets full of turquoise.  She wore them most of the time.

Back in the living room, Spring would be drinking whiskey and talking to my mother about things.  In the window near her were her "cigs" and her "stick 'o pep".  She would light up her cigarette and ask me to hand her the stick 'o pep.  It was a little wand-like thing that put a spot of liquid peppermint on her cigarette.  She was smoking menthols before there were menthols.

Usually, we would stay for dinner and Spring would cook gourmet meals.  While she cooked, she drank.  While we ate, she drank.  During dessert, she drank.  By the end of the meal, she was dictating my mothers life for her.  Stabbing her cigarette in the air, she would start out okay, but soon I would hear the dreaded phrase, "Now youu listen to me!" That would signal the end of our day with her.  My mother would cry and vow never to go back again, but soon enough we'd be off for a visit again, all things forgiven.

Spring was married 5 times and divorced or survived them all.  She married one of them twice.  She sent her two sons to military school and was in the WACs when it wasn't popular for a woman to serve our country.  She was a gypsy of sorts, telling fortunes on Olvera Street in Los Angeles and reading tea leaves in China town.  She made her millions billing for anesthesiologists in the Los Angeles area.  She had two cabins in the mountains, a fast car which she drove like a bat out of he** and never hardly ever stopped for a kid to go to the bathroom.  She was the antithesis of my maternal grandparents and I loved her and was fascinated by her.

As I get older, my memories of her come in little flashes.  A drunken Spring sitting outside by the new pool with her friends.  Suddenly she yells "Let's go swimming!  Somebody get Penny"  With that she pulled her denim dress unsnapped and dove in.  She was naked and I was shocked.  I was probably about 8 and she wanted me to strip and join her.  Scared and scintillated, I did as she asked.  Wow!  I remember the rush now.

Years pass and Spring and I have not spoken because she tried to take my illegitimate child and give him to my sister.  She tried to buy me.  I walked away.  I married, lived in Hawaii and had a daughter.  Just after her birth, I receive a telegram.  "Arriving SS Lurline" and the date and time. I was unsure, but went to the dock.  Heather was 6 weeks old and I was 18.  As the massive ship pulled in, I looked to the top deck.  She was there, bigger than life, pointing down toward me.  The wattle below her chinned wiggled as she said, "That's my great-grandaughter!"  How could I hate her?  She was my flesh and blood.  Less than two years later, she was gone. My family flew me from Northern California to see her after she had had several strokes.  Her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren were a source of pride for her.  They hoped that by seeing me pregnant she would have the will to live. 

She lay on a hospital bed in that room with a view.  Her Siamese cat Nikki lay atop her, wasting away.  Spring's face was distorted and her speech changed.  I sat next to her.  Heather, unaware, climbed up next to her and hugged and kissed her.  She reached her claw hand out to my belly and said "Boy".  She didn't say anything else.  She slept.  Just after my 20th birthday she died.  Her memory lingers on. 

18 comments:

Anonymous said...

She sounds fascinating and fabulous!  Of course with "characters" like that, there's always a downside.  I am glad your good memories outweigh the bad, and I know she must have LOVED seeing YOU, and seeing you pregnant.

Thanks for sharing this wonderful memory!

Love to you and yours,

Andi

Anonymous said...

Dear Penny,
wow what a fascinating grandmother!
thank you for sharing her with us!
Sounds like she cared alot about you Penny!
hugs,natalie

Anonymous said...

She sounded a real character, I'm glad you have some happy memories of her. Thankd for sharing them with us. Jeannette xx

Anonymous said...

Penny, that is an amazing story - and an amazing woman!  

There's a book in there about Spring.  You should think about writing it, because this is a wonderful start.  :)

Hugs,
Gwynn

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful story, Penny! Your grandma sounds so exotic and i can see why you were so fascinated by her. Its a shame she didnt live to see all of your kids born.....you could write a book about her! Love ya,lisa jo

Anonymous said...

What a wonderful entry.  You made Spring come alive and I could picture it all in my head.  She certainly sounds like a colourful woman and I am glad you have good memories of her on the whole.  Thank for for sharing with us.

http://journals.aol.co.uk/jeanno43/JeannettesJottings/

Anonymous said...

What amazing memories to have!  She came right to life with the telling, I could see her diving into the pool -- and her  punctuated conversation!

Anonymous said...

Penny, you know you are awesome! don't you?  It takes a talent to always remember the good times. You may not have always had that talent, but you certainly do now.  Beautiful story!

Blessings!
Darlene

Anonymous said...

A wonderful entry Penny, written so beautifully. Thank you my friend for sharing your memories. Thinking of you.
Love & jugs,
Sylvia xxttp://journals.aol.co.uk/sylviam4000/YeOldeEnglishPosy/

Anonymous said...

A sensitive and descriptive entry, Penny. I see where John gets his natural talent from! How can I get a copy of the tag above? I love things with bees in them.
Bea

Anonymous said...

Another incredible journey into your life, a sweet (and sometimes bittersweet) memory of your grandmother.  I love these kinds of stories, and you tell them so well.  Please let us know if you ever decide to write your life in a book.  I'll stand in line.  You are so gifted!!  (and writing is only one of many gifts of yours!)  Thank you for sharing..  Michelle

Anonymous said...

That memory is beautiful. Thank you for opening up and sharing that memory with us.

Peace and love,
Charley
http://journals.aol.com/cdittric77/courage

Anonymous said...

    Spring sounded like a real character.  I can see why, as a child, you were so fascinated by her ... especially if she was so different from the other side of your family.  I can imagine that every visit to her house was an adventure.  A great memory, Penny ....  Tina

Anonymous said...

I would have loved to have a grandmother like that!  I can tell I'd have really liked her.  I'm so glad you shared this with us.  
Pamela

Anonymous said...

You are a wonderful storyteller--I can see where your son gets his writing skills from.  What a wonderful story about your grandmother.  I'm sure she would have loved it.  Julie :)

Anonymous said...

Sounds like Spring was a lively as the season of her name!  lol  -  Barbara

Anonymous said...

What a great, interesting lady to have had in your life.  How did she get the name Spring?
Lori

Anonymous said...

Wow.  Love this entry.  What a personality! ;)  C.  http://journals.aol.com/gdireneoe/thedailies