Grandma Sloan

May 30, 1905 - January 26, 2010

These are always the hardest posts to write. My last great-grandma, and the only one I knew very well died last week. Not only did she live a long life, but up until about 5 years ago, a very independent and healthy one. She had her shotgun, she had her dog, and so felt quite content to live on her own. Grandma really loved her great-grandkids, and we adored her in return. I remember many summers spent playing cards with her on the back porch and eating ice cream or cookies. She always had something for us and delighted in feeding us. I remember helping her in her vegetable garden, collecting the fallen apples in a wheel barrel, or tossing a ball for her beloved Pomeranian, Toto.

When my family moved to Washington, we stayed with my Grandma and Grandpa Van Duker for a few months while my parents looked for a house. Grandma Sloan lived at the bottom of the hill right by the bus stop, so we'd stop by her house first after school before heading up the hill. She was always waiting for us and we'd spend an hour or so chatting about our days, "helping" her clean up any pesky leftover cookies, and running around her yard with Toto.

Later, my parents moved to Puyallup. Due to the school situation, I opted to stay with my grandparents to finish off the school year. One of the highlights of my day was seeing grandma. She always had a big smile. We'd talk about the news of the day- she was very well informed about the latest in the news- or read the jokes in the Reader's Digest together. Sometimes she'd tell stories and other times she'd ask me to play my viola. Now I wasn't any great talent, but she liked to hear me play anyway and I'd oblige. She loved the few Irish jigs I knew. Grandma's mother was Irish and her father a Scotsman, and she told stories of how as a child she had to wear the family plaid. The 11 children lived in Canada on a farm and rode horses into town to school. She truly saw many remarkable changes in her lifetime.

At the funeral, Grandma Van Duker reminded me of one of the stories she'd tell from her childhood. Apparently her father had a mean goose that would chase them all over the yard and hiss at them. One day four of the youngest kids were left home alone while their parents were out and about. They decided to teach the goose a lesson. They captured the goose into a great big butter churn and then started churning the goose around and around. The goose made a huge ruckus and when they felt it had enough the let him out. The goose staggered around the yard and became quite docile from then on. Never bugged them again. Unfortunately for the butter churn, the goose was loose- leaving a horrible mess to clean up. They hurriedly scrubbed it with soap and bleach before their parents got back. From then on they never ate butter again from the churn and their father would puzzle why they never wanted butter with their bread!

Within the last few years it got harder to see grandma. Her mind started to go and sometimes she'd remember you and other times not. Visits tired her and I would stay for a short while until she fell asleep. Her body was just slowly giving out on her. You could tell when she was there though. Her blue eyes would just sparkle.

Four years ago, when I told her the name of our second child she got excited. "That was my mother's name! You named her after my mother!"

Melissa and Grandma July 2006

I know it was time for her to go. Her spirit was stuck in a broken body. Her friends, siblings, parents, and only child all died before her and she missed them terribly. It is hard to be on the side saying goodbye though, and I miss the grandma and person that she was and regret that my children won't know her. For them, all I have is a few stories.

Miss you Grandma.