My Grandmother

My grandmother, Constance Elaine Adams Bronson, has passed away at the age of 87. I have so much I want to say about her, yet I cannot seem to get them organized in any decent manner. Excuse me as I type whatever comes out.

In many ways, I think my relationship with her was more like a parent/child relationship than a typical grandparent/child relationship. I was her first grandchild and her only grandchild for 7 1/2 years. I spent a lot of time with her. My parents traveled frequently for work, and I stayed with Grandma and Grandpa many weekends. I remember Grandma going about her daily routines while I was there. It wasn't a situation where there were special activities planned because I was there for a couple of days. Grandma gardened, canned, read and just lived while I was around. I think this was great. It gave me time to explore and play around her house. I roamed the fields and gardens, climbed trees and discovered where all the biggest anthills were. (There were quite a few.) Grandma's mom, GG I called her, lived in the in-law apartment behind Grandma and Grandpa, and I would visit her, too.

Grandma was never one to mince words. She would pretty much tell you what she thought, even if it wasn't pretty. She was strong. I never saw her cry until her mother died. Then, only briefly. I've always been one to cry frequently, so her strong facade was something I envied. However, I do believe it was just a facade, and she probably had some idea that being strong on the outside was the right thing to do. In her later years, she started being weepy at times, and this was startling to me. I'm the weak one who cries over everything, not her! But it showed me that she was touched by the love in our family. She would cry when I talked to her about memories of my childhood and things I remembered about her. She was sometimes emotional when watching my children play, or especially when holding a baby. She cried when I told her that I had named my third child Lily Elaine, the Elaine for her middle name.

The first time I remember her really weeping was a little over three years ago when she had had a stroke while in the hospital. She couldn't speak, but when I walked in the room, she reached out and held my hand and wept and wept. As soon as she could speak again, she told me she loved me. She was not one for spontaneous emotional expressions, so this was something new to me. I think she was scared of dying at that point. She may have realized that she had come close to the end and she wanted to make sure to express things that were left unsaid. Once she had mostly recovered from this spell, she seemed to return to her mostly stalwart self.

Now, she was ready to die. She let us know just after this last Christmas that she did not want any more treatment for her recurring anemia. She was leaving on her terms, choosing to let her life be over. This was hard for some to accept. I wasn't surprised. She made her mind up and did it. I believe that she hoped to make it happen sooner. Once she had made her choice, some days she would lie in bed, not getting up and we would think, maybe this is it...but no, she'd get up again, realizing that it wasn't time quite yet.

Grandma was never one to refuse a good drink, a good cup of coffee or a good book.

She read fiction and non-fiction both, but I remember her best reading histories and biographies, pencil in hand, making notes in the margins. She read books twice in a row, so that she could really get the facts down, reviewing her notes, and drawing conclusions.

She drank coffee all day long, staying up late into the night, and sleeping for most of the morning. As most grandmothers fall asleep earlier and earlier and wake at the crack of dawn, she took the opposite tack. Don't visit Grandma before lunch! She's probably still in bed.

Grandma enjoyed the cocktail hour, and I learned to make her a drink at a young age. Some might think it wrong for a small child serve adult beverages to her grandparents and great-grandparents, but it made me feel very grown-up and special. In recent years, wine was her most-favored potable, but she would try others if offered! On one of the last trips we took together (the whole family, yes 20 of us!) I know she had part of my Margarita, had a Cosmo for herself and tried some of a an Appletini! She bought me a Cocktail cookbook a few years ago, encouraged me to try some different recipes and wanted reports on the findings!

So, here's to a true original, Connie Bronson. Next time you have a cup of coffee, an interesting cocktail or read a good book, think of her. And report on how that drink was...she'd want to know.