Unforgettable

I am a peddler of memories; a salesman of reminiscence. Some people have told me that I have an interesting ability to recall details of otherwise mundane transactions of my youth. There are a lot of reasons for that. For one, I enjoy spending time immersed in the freedom and incorruption of my youth. There is some sort of purifying of the soul that takes place when you can find positive moments in your past and relive them; focusing in on everything good in life. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, it’s almost a spiritual reconciliation at times.

Taking it a step further, our experiences mold and shape us over the years. We become who we are in the present by experiencing the past. We learn from the good and bad; and memories of both help us make our decisions going forward. You know the old saying, “fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” That is about learning lessons. By re-examining the past, I can sometimes understand why I make some of the decisions I make or why certain things make me comfortable or why certain things make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. If we just live each day as if yesterday never happened, how do we know we are living better today?

You want to know another reason I’m so focused in on “the good old days”? There is one reason that I don’t know that I’ve ever openly admitted to. I don’t know that I recognized it early on for myself either. I make remembering certain parts of the past a challenge of sorts. I try to remember the tiniest details to not only tell a good story, but to convince myself that I’m remembering the events as they happened. This is because there is a part of me that is afraid I won’t be able to remember these events one day. I reconcile within my own mind that if I write them down, relive them as I’m telling a story, I will have the recollection 20 years from now and it won’t feel like it’s so far in the past.

That doesn’t come from a touch of madness either. That comes from seeing it happen to someone that I loved dearly. My grandmother, Jeanelle Kelly (GaGa), had Alzheimer’s Disease and it stole the final years of an otherwise healthy person. It was painful to see for me but was even more crushing to her own children, one of whom is my mother. My mother saw GaGa practically every day and some days she would recognize her and some days she was a stranger. This wasn’t an overnight change either. This was a slow and brutal disease. It started as forgetting small things like whether the stove was turned off. Then it advanced to what day of the week it was. Unfortunately, it never gets better.

I remember some great times with GaGa though. When I was a kid, she was like my “extended” mother. She was always around. We lived in a small town of about 5,000 so even if you lived across town, you didn’t live far away. That was the case with GaGa as she lived in some apartments on the far south side of town. We could be at her house within 5 minutes and we were there a lot. My parents would go out on a Friday or Saturday night and that meant we were staying with GaGa. I can still picture the full layout of that apartment. She had her recliner in the far corner of the living room and there were three separate graduation pictures of my mom, my Aunt Ann and my Aunt Nancy, over the couch.

There was a coffee table in the center of the room where I would eat chili, which became my all time favorite food. We almost never ate supper at the kitchen table at GaGa’s. There was always a TV Guide there on that table too. One of our favorite shows was “Werewolf”, which ran from 1987-1988 on Fox. This was a horror/drama that was a must watch when I was over at her house. She knew that storyline and followed it like a soap opera. I can still see bits and pieces of scenes in my mind but I haven’t really thought of that show in 25 years or so. At this moment, it is fresh on my mind though.

Another memory I have is eating breakfast on Saturday mornings. For many years, like clockwork, GaGa would make a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and grits for her three daughters, their husbands and all 6 grandchildren. This was where I was introduced to the homemade jelly that BeeBee made. This is also where me and Adam and Trent would go play on the wooden beams out in front of the apartment. We would play kickball, wiffle ball and football; unless it was a day that Adam had to “rest up” for R.A. Basketball. Trent will get that one for sure. Those breakfasts carried on for years, even after she moved into a new house just down the road from us. She had more room to entertain but we all still piled up on each other because we had all grown up.

Speaking of R.A. Basketball, another thing that I carry around with me about GaGa is that she was always there. She went to all of those games. She went to my youth football games, choir concerts, school programs, awards banquets, the hospital when I hurt myself. If it was important and it involved her grandchildren, she was there. She came by our house almost daily, around the same time in the evening, to check up on us. She would talk with my mom and she would see how me and Chase were doing. She was visible, always around us and an important part of our lives.

We had Christmas at her house annually. First, we were at the apartment. This is where Michael and Chase are taking their goofy NASCAR picture with Ashley in the background. This is where Trent wore his karate gi one Christmas. That was a different Christmas than the one where he was caught on camera uttering an unenthused “clothes I bet” while opening a gift from GaGa. This is where Uncle Danny received a gun cleaning kit 10 years in a row. This is where the story of Adam and “Crossfire” became a legendary tale because I heard it there that Christmas morning. I loved going to GaGa’s house on Christmas morning to eat breakfast and kick off the present ripping for the day. Then she moved over to the new house and we made memories there too.

One such memory will go down as one of the greatest moments in holiday history for our family. This moment is remembered as more than it really was but if you knew GaGa, you’ll know why this was such a big deal. As she was finishing up breakfast, we were snooping around the tree, as usual. We were getting a little too handsy with the presents when GaGa went to reprimand us and meant to say, “Put the presents down!” What she said was “Put the down presents….down”; which we heard or “interpreted” as, “Put the damn presents down!” This was an impossibility because she was unable to use such language and was as pure a human as I’ve ever known. But that didn’t stop us from letting her know that’s what we thought she said. Emotions ranged from embarrassment to aggravation with us over the years with that repeatedly coming up Christmas after Christmas.

As a sports fan, I have memories in that realm too. Any Atlanta Braves fan from my generation will remember what life was like from 1991-1995 and that was right in my teenage wheelhouse with me being 14-18. The playoffs were on at my house every year and it was a gathering place for our whole family to enjoy the games. I’ll never forget 1991. Even though Kent Hrbek stole that series from us, with the help of a Lonnie Smith base-running blunder, that is the most memorable postseason series of my lifetime. And GaGa was there with Ma Jean, Uncle Charles, Andrew, and everybody else. We collectively cheered when David Justice crossed the plate in the 12th inning of Game 3 and we collectively cried when Dan Gladden scored the series winning run in the 10th inning of Game 7. It all happened again in 1992 but the players were Francisco Cabrera, Sid Bream, Joe Carter and Kelly Gruber. Our family was together though and GaGa was cheering right with us.

But that is the manner in which I remember GaGa today. When I think about her, I smile or I laugh and I just feel love. I can probably count on one hand the amount of times we got in trouble with her. Negativity was not present when we were around GaGa. We enjoyed ourselves. She bought me baseball cards for Easter, Halloween and Christmas. I still remember the 1990 Fleer Mark McGwire I opened while eating my trick or treat candy. We played Phase 10 while Uncle Charles made up fake words to cast spells on the deck in his favor. We sat in the same spot every Sunday at church. She checked in on me when I was home alone and the parents went to the lake for the weekend. She ALWAYS believed me when I called sick from school, even when I was faking. And I remember the quilt she made me when I was 5. It still sits on our bed, 35 years later, and Alicia uses it for an extra layer because I keep the house so cold.

I went to see GaGa the day before I left for the Industry Summit because her health had deteriorated to a point where we didn’t know how long she had left. She didn’t look like GaGa. She didn’t recognize me. She slept most of the time. But I was in the room with her just one more time. Ma Jean was there too, along with mom and Andrew. I felt at peace in the room with her. My GaGa has been gone for several years but Nell Kelly passed away today (March 3, 2018). She leaves behind a big family of Lamb’s and Hayes’ and Shiver’s that grew up together because she kept us together. She was the matriarch of our big family and we learned a lot from her. I like to think that she passed down to me some of her laid back personality and chili making skills. I know that we all have a little piece of her with us today.

I miss my grandmother but that is not a new emotion. It is compounded with the passing of her earthly body. But I have these memories of her. And I want them to be remembered even after I am gone so they are now a part of this blog. I pray that I, nor anyone else in my family, has to go through what she went through. But just in case I one day find myself reaching for memories that are leaving, I hope that this writing will be there to help me remember my grandmother.

I Love You GaGa!

Jo-Ree

16 thoughts on “Unforgettable”

  1. She sounds like a very special lady and I saw a lot of my grandmother in your description. We carry such close bonds with our grandmothers and it is a really difficult loss… I still “talk” to mine sometimes… I remember many years ago telling James how much I missed her and wish I could see her or talk to her. I remember him telling me to just go out on the deck, look up and talk to her. He felt certain the good Lord opened up the heavens when needed so they could see and hear us. So I often did. That woman loved her some James. She was always baking for him (not her granddaughter but him. LOL.) Then one day I was on the deck… looking up… tears rolling down my cheeks knowing they were together but hoping they could hear me. My love and prayers as you go through this tough loss…. God Bless the family!

  2. My condolences to you and your family.
    I lost my Grandmother in 1976, and it was not easy for a 16 year old to process…she was my refuge from doing yard work on weekends with my Dad.
    Instead I got to play catch with her, watch TV, and listen to my Tigers on the radio, and, like your GaGa, my Dadorm (That’s how I said Dad’s Mom) had breakfast waiting for me when I got up every day.

    It’s been a long time, but I still remember those day..the best days of my youth.

    God Bless.

  3. Aweee, I cried reading this. It is so sad to see someone we love exist like this when we know how much of a active person they once were and how much of our life that has been molded by this person. So glad you got to visit her before you went out of town. This blog was great and I agree, put it in writing. Whether you will be able to tell the stories or not, the future generations will have these available and can reminisce with you, for you or about you.

  4. Thanks for the article,in similar ways my grandpa like GaGa,a strong silent type, always their for was us,a mentor to his gran-kids,man beat me in a downhill ski at age 65/66,i was 16.Yeah those days of the past is irreplaceable.

  5. I’m so sorry for your loss. 2018 has started out rough for me in that manner as well. I’m so happy that you did have those last moments. Not all of us are so fortunate. Cherish and remember that time. 🙂

  6. Great memories.
    Three of my four grandparents died before I was born and my grandmother, who lived in a different province, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s sometime around when I was ten so I don’t have many memories of her.
    Alzheimer’s sucks.

    1. Sorry to hear that Angus. I was very fortunate to have my grandparents close by while growing up.

  7. Having to go through things like this with our grandparents is never easy. It’s even harder when we feel like no one can help the situation from getting worse. Prayers for you guys through this time. Keep writing my brother, it’s probably one of the best ways to keep those memories alive. The best part is, in writing, you’re keeping those memories alive for everyone….even those of us who didn’t know her. If only we could all remember the little details we’ve forgotten. It’s those details that make memories special I think. Proud of you man!

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