The End Of A Century+

On February 8th, 2025, we celebrated the 106th birthday of my grandma, Val. Not two weeks later, she was in serious condition, then passed away early one morning. She had been in hospice care for a while but was still laughing and smiling at the faces of her great-grandbabies, telling them that she loved them. She told the rest of us regularly that she loved us. I’m sure she told others in her life who helped her or chatted with her or attended her church that she loved them, too. She wanted everyone to be okay and understood that love is the sunlight that helps that seed grow.

Into her early 100s, she was still the grandma I’d always known. I would chat with her for an hour about life stuff, and she always had good, down-to-earth advice for any of it. Her questions and responses made it clear that she cared. I think she was genuinely interested in other peoples’ lives and the choices they made. And while she didn’t always agree with those choices, she absolutely respected their right to make them. (Unless they were criminals or bad drivers. Can’t save ’em all.)

My dad and uncle could get her laughing pretty hard, which was the best. I suspect it was an offshoot of the shared, genetic sense of humor that Grandpa Clyde employed to win her over in the first place. She had a great sense of humor, herself, despite living a full and rich life that reached polarities of joy and sadness. And while she was anything but a simple person, her outlook was pretty straightforward. Be nice to people. If you like them, let them know.

It still boggles my mind that she lived for a century, then some more. She never got cancer, never got dementia (just a little memory loss at the very end), and despite 2 pandemics, multiple wars, losing her mom at a young age, and drivers who were going too fast, her outlook was positive. I know she believed in God but it seems like that just corroborated what she actually felt at her core.

I have lots of memories, obviously, but one of my favorites was visiting her at her apartment (she was well into her 90s) with my young son Eli (her great grandson). She offered him some ice cream which he gladly accepted. When he was done, she said “how about another bowl?” His eyes boggled and he looked at me for approval. I said “If Grandma’s offering, I can’t say no!” He absolutely loved that and she was equally amused by usurping my authority and providing this absolute, simple joy.

I also remember walking into a Wendy’s for dinner and, before we could get to the counter to order, she had struck up a conversation with an older man who was already eating. I don’t believe they knew each other, but you couldn’t tell from the discussion. They were going back and forth about everything wrong with the world, health concerns, and other things on their minds. An immediate camaraderie, not two minutes after walking in the door.

Again – only the tip of the iceberg, story-wise. I was only around for half of her life but she was there for all of mine. I’m sure others knew her better, but from what I do know, she would not want everyone fussing over her – so let’s not fuss. Let’s share stories, enjoy each other’s company, and maybe later we can get that extra bowl of ice cream.