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| Grandpa Gustafson |
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| Grandma Gustafson |
Most of my memories came from my brother and I flying to Raleigh by ourselves as kids to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for several days in the summer. The first year we were young. Really young. I believe I was about 6 or 7 years old making my brother 7 or 8. We'd been on planes before, but never without mom or dad. I don't how dad talked mom into doing it, but of course everything turned out fine.
The airlines would give us little packets with our boarding passes and other paperwork that would hang around your neck. My brother always made me wear his. I was scared as crap that we would get lost, miss a flight, get on the wrong flight, etc. and so I promptly checked us in at connecting gates. My brother just appeared to enjoy his freedom wandering around the airport. If you threw us into the same situation today as adults, we'd probably revert to the same routine.
Then we'd arrive in Raleigh (this was back when people could greet you at the gates) and Grandma and Grandpa would be waiting for us. This was truly exciting because they were our free ticket to ride those little carts that carried people and their luggage throughout the terminals. Airports can require long, tiresome walks for little kids with backpacks, so this was AWESOME.
And from that point on, there was never a quiet moment (that I can remember). You'd wake up to donuts and fresh fruit, or cereal and fresh fruit, or bree (a sweet German recipe - not positive I'm spelling it correctly) and fresh fruit. They'd talk to you while they read the newspaper until everyone was up and had eaten breakfast. Then, most of the time, you had choices. You could go and play in the backyard, drive a small lawnmower in the backyard (at one point there was even a power-wheel jeep), play with some old games from the closet, explore the house...just so many things!
And on the mornings you didn't have a choice, you were off to either the children's museum, the farmer's market, or, if you were me, you would have sewing lessons from Grandma. At first I was resistant because my first instinct was to want to play, but then she showed me the things you could make. Then it sounded fun....until I realized how time consuming it was to mark and sew straight lines. If you know me well, you know I can't even write in a straight line most days. It was still fun to get to run things through the sewing machine and Grandma was always so happy to get to sit down and do it and for me to ask questions. Some of us know that Grandma could be a blunt person and it could come across as harsh criticism (though I'm sure it was all out of love), but never while you were sewing. She was always encouraging and positive. And, come to think of it, she was this way whenever she taught me things. Since she was a lifelong teacher, I'm sure this carried through in all of her lessons. But if there was ever anything I wish I could change, it would be to actual try to learn to sew and enjoy that time. I'm still trying to learn to sew....straight lines are still my nemesis.
One Christmas, while I was in college, my cousin and I (we were the only girls) both received a top-of-the-line sewing machine from Grandma. The weekend of her funeral we were going through her things and found a copy of a Christmas letter she sent that year that mentioned how excited she was to be giving those to us. I wish I had appreciated it more than I did.
Our morning would wrap up with the uneventful lunch after which we'd all take a flop. Well, Grandma and Grandpa would while my brother and I - most of the time - would stay awake and play quietly - most of the time.
It was after lunch that there was always even more fun because that's normally when we'd get to see our uncles and, when they were old enough, play with our cousins. Man, that was some good fun. They all loved games and playing outside as much as we did, and they'd usually stay through dinner. Then we would all sit around and talk or take turns playing the piano. Grandma and Grandpa both loved encouraging people to play the piano.
Once our cousins were old enough, Trent and I would want to go spend the night at their house at least once while we were there. They had lots of toys to play with and it was just fun to be around other kids (since my brother and I couldn't be expected to get along forever). But there was one summer visit where despite our best pleadings, we weren't allowed to go. I was really looking forward to it, so I was upset. I went to pout on the living room couch and I remember Grandpa coming to talk to me.
Patiently he explained to me that there is a reason for everything, and that particular night there was an actual, reasonable explanation for why we couldn't spend the night and he did something that I'll always remember: he treated little-kid-me like an adult and told me the reason. I remember thinking, "What? It's not just because you said so?" It made perfect sense! Of course we wouldn't want to make things harder for everyone by staying there, and you know what? It didn't feel like a big friggin' deal anymore, and I immediately moved on.
That was something Grandpa was an expert at: teaching us about cause-and-effect and just plain reason. My brother and I would be in an all out brawl and Grandpa would sort us out through reason. "But you see, if you hurt your sister's hands she can't play the piano. See?" Whether or not my brother actually cared about breaking my hands, I can't say (I can guess he probably didn't), but we stopped and I walked away thinking about things differently.
But always when we were there we were doing things, and of course, when you're a child, doing things meant learning things. And not only that, but we were doing and learning things with family and enjoying our time with them. Grandma and Grandpa always enjoyed everyone being together. They were never the center of attention unless we made them the center of attention, but they were certainly the backbone of every gathering.
As perfectly as I like to remember them, I know they were not perfect people. Sure there are hard memories, especially close to the end where neither were entirely themselves anymore, but it didn't stop us from being with them.
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| Grandma holding Charlotte in February |
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| All the grandchildren and great-grandchildren with Grandma at Grandpa's funeral. |
