My Grandma Was Better Than Your Grandma

Most people my age do not have a living grandma. Up until yesterday, I had one. When my mother married for the second time, she married a man five years her junior. My mom had me when she was a teenager. If you do all of the math, that left me with a stepdad 13 years my senior and a lovely grandma who was still in her 40s when I first met her in 1979. 

Her first name was Hedwig, but everyone called her by her middle name, which was Elaine. She was of German lineage, with solid bones, fine blonde hair (she ran out of ways to make it look thicker, I think), and cornflower blue eyes. When I was a kid, I loved to go to her house in Arlington (VA) and look at her wedding photos, which lived in a leather-bound photo album that sat flat on the bottom shelf of an end table. She was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen (in all of my nine years). Picture 1950s glamour and perfectly-applied lipstick. She was divorced before I ever met her, but the wedding photos were still around. Elaine was the kindest person I ever knew, and I never heard her say a negative word about any person. Except one (and even then she kinda took the high road and held her tongue).

Elaine raised three children. The man who would become my stepdad was her firstborn, followed by Diana and then Janet. She was a public health nurse, and I think her job in the community gave her an enduring appreciation for different types of people and perhaps immigrant families in particular. She retired in the late 90s and kept busy with gardening and a hundred other things. You could barely catch her by phone at times.

Here's what you need to know about my grandma. She loved me unconditionally from the start and until the day of her death. Her passing, just five days after her 93rd birthday was not unexpected, but it occurs to me that the number of people on the planet who love me is dwindling fast. 

In 2005, my husband and I filled out a mountain of paperwork in order to be considered to adopt a baby. We were told the wait could be long. By some insane stroke of luck, we were selected almost immediately. The baby was due in a matter of weeks and we didn't have time to save up money, accrue PTO, etc. My grandma quietly mailed me a check for a thousand dollars. "Let's keep this between us," she said. That money covered the attorney fees, or a good portion of them, and was a lifesaver. We brought our baby girl home two months later. 

In the years before we brought our daughter home, I miscarried four times and was tired. My arms physically ached for a baby. People said weird stuff to me about the miscarriages. "It's part of God's plan" was a popular one. I had lunch with my grandma one day and asked her if she could help me understand why people would say such things. How is a dead embryo part of God's plan? We had a nice chat about it and she didn't pretend to know all the answers, but I was comforted. 

Elaine's faith was very important to her; she expressed it more in deeds than in words. She attended the same church, Lewinsville Presbyterian in McLean, from the time she was a little girl until the end of her life. She was a beloved figure there. Elaine was a regular churchgoer but sometimes skipped the major religious holidays (like Easter Sunday) when scores of people would suddenly attend. "I'll just let the sinners go," she would jokingly say. Just for fun, I Googled her maiden name this morning to see if anything came up. I found one sentence about her in a Virginia newspaper archive from 1949: "Miss Elaine Huschke left Monday to represent the Young People of the Lewinsville Presbyterian Church at the Conference held at Hood College next week."

I loved going to her house when I was a kid (and as an adult). The whole extended family would gather on Christmas Eve for dinner and gifts. My grandma made chocolate cupcakes that had cream cheese filling and tiny chocolate chips in them - I'd eat as many as I thought I could reasonably get away with consuming. She had a small tree that for many years was adorned with a handful of tinsel strands brought over from Germany when she was a girl. Chock full of lead, as I recall. "Best not to touch them," she'd say. I for sure touched them. Elaine was always a thoughtful - though sometimes utilitarian - gift giver. One year she gave my mother (who preferred impractical gifts) bath rugs for Christmas and we didn't hear the end of it for years. 

Last month, I flew out to Virginia to see my grandma. She was in a nursing home and could no longer walk. Her mind, however, was as sharp as ever. She used the word "vociferous" in conversation and remembered the names of people who had been gone for many decades. I used my fledgling crochet skills to make her a lap blanket. I brought it to her when I visited. "Oh, you're such a doll!" she exclaimed. 

Various nurses and workers came and went from the room as I sat with her that afternoon. "This is Claudia, my granddaughter!" she would say to each one. She showed one of them the blanket I had made for her. The nice lady did the appropriate amount of oohing and aahing over my little creation.

While we were chatting, a petite masked woman came in and asked Elaine if she wanted a priest to come in and give her communion and whatnot. Frankly, she was a bit pushy. My grandma finally told the lady that she was Presbyterian and didn't need a priest. After the woman left, she turned to me and shrugged. "The Catholics come every Wednesday," she said.  

She was hoping to get stronger, to walk again, and to go home. It didn't happen, but I am glad she was comfortable and not in pain when she died. No one was more surprised at her longevity than she was. "I had no idea I'd still be here at this age," she told me more than once. 

Her health was good up until the past few years. One time, after she'd been sick for a while, I called her and cracked a joke. "If you just needed some attention," I said, "you really didn't need to go to these lengths."

"Well, I was desperate," my grandma replied without missing a beat. She had a great sense of humor, although I think she was probably the only person on the planet who thought the old Ziggy comics were funny. 

How lucky was I to have such a wonderful person in my life for so many years? I was not her biological grandchild. My sister Mona was also not her biological grandchild. My sister Audrey was and had the family resemblance to prove it. There were a couple of relatives on my stepdad's father's side who were concerned that Mona and I would try to use the Davis family name as our own. You know, because Davis is such a unique and storied surname. We were stepchildren, after all. Elaine, however, never treated us any differently. She was just our grandma and honestly, she was the best grandma ever. 

Losing Greg, her firstborn, in late 2022 was an unbearable blow to all of us. I know Elaine relied heavily on her faith to get through the days. Greg's memorial service was held at - where else - Lewinsville Presbyterian. When he was in his final moments of life, she hesitated to say good-bye to him over the phone (he was in another state) because she wanted to say just the right thing. That window of opportunity closed and was lost. I know that bothered her for the rest of her days, but she also leaned on her faith once again. He knew she loved him. She knew he loved her. Peace was had. 

I recently started attending group grief counseling sessions. I have continued to struggle with the circumstances surrounding my mother's death and honestly, I think I'm still grieving the loss of Greg as well. I came to realize that during the sessions. Now I'll add my grandma to the list as well. I'll miss a million things about her. Sitting in her kitchen during visits. Sending her a Kringle every year on her birthday (she didn't need any more knickknacks so I'd started sending edible stuff instead). Childhood Christmases and weekend visits (which sometimes included a trip to Ayers in Westover - you could get some really good junk there). Mostly, she was simply there for all of us and loved me, my sisters, her children, and so many others in her life with her whole heart. 

I hope she found Greg on the other side, and maybe a couple of the weird little dogs and cat she took in over the years. I went to a craft fair this morning and thought of her when I saw an especially cute ornament. "Well, isn't that darling?" I could hear her saying. Darling indeed.