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| Grandpa Zim and Grandma Myrt, camping in Yosemite in the 70's |
Thanks for the Memories
by Marna Fahrney on Monday, 25 April 2011 at 12:47 ·
Headed
back to Rock Creek, I am experiencing a rush of emotions and memories.
Having spent the weekend in the house I grew up in I am now feeling a
bit nostalgic. Growing up, we never know which moment will create a
lasting impression and become a treasured memory. As a child, I just
lived. I didn’t realize that the daily activities, regular camping trips
and time spent together would one day be the memories that I look back
on with love and gratitude.
Forty years have passed since Myrtle and Zim chose to care for their granddaughter Marna. Time goes forward. There is no way of stopping it or slowing it down. I see the changes when I look in the mirror. I saw the changes not only in Grandpa, but also in his house. I took for granted that they would both remain the same forever. There are more age spots and veins showing in Grandpa’s hands. There are an increasing amount of cobwebs and areas of peeling paint on the outside of his home. He now walks slower and a bit more carefully. The house, which he purchased in 1955, is finally showing its age with a rusty iron gate, empty flower beds and hazy windows. I never put much thought into the fact that in order to keep a house looking well kept; one must put in hours upon hours of work. I recall the many trips that Grandma and Grandpa made to the local hardware store and the nursery. But it never dawned on me that this was actual work for them. Their house was always the same, lived in but tidy, homey and comfortable. Their yard was filled with flowers, trees and hidden places. We had oranges, avocados, lemons, figs and a garden full of delicious vegetables to enjoy. In Elementary School, my Grandpa still worked. Not once did I ever wonder what my Grandma did all day. Now that she is gone, and Grandpa has slowed down, the house on Volante Drive, the one with the enormous orange tree in the front yard is missing their special touch. I want to relive those years so that I can appreciate them more and be more in the moment. I now understand that even at 40 years of age, I am making memories each day, with each moment.
Grandma shared many of her memories of being a child growing up in Monterey Park, before paved streets and tall buildings and rows of houses. She had a dog named Bob. He was a bull terrier and followed her on her many adventures through the dirt fields near her home. This was a time when children roamed free, explored, played and enjoyed the great outdoors. Before she met Grandpa Zim, she would swim at the pool in Alhambra. They wouldn’t find out till much later that they both spent many Saturdays there and were more than likely at the pool at the same time.
The year was 1937. They had both graduated from High School and each got a job at Kress’s Department Store on Main St. in Alhambra. My Grandma was petite with hazel eyes, warm coffee colored hair, and the most beautiful feminine hands and long dainty fingernails. Grandpa was tall, dashing in a dress shirt and slacks and had a shock of wavy auburn hair. He worked in the back of the store, stocking and making deliveries. She worked behind the counters of jewelry, makeup, perfume and gloves. Becoming involved with a fellow employee was strictly forbidden. Grandpa recalls, with great disdain, the person that enforced that rule, and many others. “Old Lady Dunn.” She was a rather large woman with an even larger voice and manner. It was never a good idea to cross Ms. Dunn, if you knew what was good for you. I heard this story so many times, mainly because I asked to hear it again and again, that it now plays in my mind like a movie. I can clearly see Ms. Dunn setting forth her rules of expected behavior. It was fate or destiny that my Grandparents met and began seeing one another. I always asked if they were worried about “Old Lady Dunn” finding out that they were a couple. Grandma gave the same answer every time. She didn’t care. She wasn’t about to let someone tell her what to do. She was somewhat feisty for a young church-going girl in the late 30’s, but that was my Grandma, filled with determination and purpose. Grandpa told me that one of their first dates was at a Chinese restaurant just down the street from Kress’s. He still loves Chinese food to this day. Grandma said that she was very excited to go on a date with Zim when they first met, her reason? He had a car! Her last boyfriend only had a bicycle. It wasn’t until after several dates that she found out the car actually belonged to Grandpa’s father. “So much for that!” she’d say.
They told me these stories with such detail that it seems I was a part of them as well. Either they were great storytellers or I was a good listener. I am now yearning to hear more stories, and also looking forward to writing about those that I already have in my heart. I wonder if I have what it takes to make my memories come alive again. Bob Hope’s famous song is now playing in my mind and I am humming along…”Thanks for the Memories.”
Forty years have passed since Myrtle and Zim chose to care for their granddaughter Marna. Time goes forward. There is no way of stopping it or slowing it down. I see the changes when I look in the mirror. I saw the changes not only in Grandpa, but also in his house. I took for granted that they would both remain the same forever. There are more age spots and veins showing in Grandpa’s hands. There are an increasing amount of cobwebs and areas of peeling paint on the outside of his home. He now walks slower and a bit more carefully. The house, which he purchased in 1955, is finally showing its age with a rusty iron gate, empty flower beds and hazy windows. I never put much thought into the fact that in order to keep a house looking well kept; one must put in hours upon hours of work. I recall the many trips that Grandma and Grandpa made to the local hardware store and the nursery. But it never dawned on me that this was actual work for them. Their house was always the same, lived in but tidy, homey and comfortable. Their yard was filled with flowers, trees and hidden places. We had oranges, avocados, lemons, figs and a garden full of delicious vegetables to enjoy. In Elementary School, my Grandpa still worked. Not once did I ever wonder what my Grandma did all day. Now that she is gone, and Grandpa has slowed down, the house on Volante Drive, the one with the enormous orange tree in the front yard is missing their special touch. I want to relive those years so that I can appreciate them more and be more in the moment. I now understand that even at 40 years of age, I am making memories each day, with each moment.
Grandma shared many of her memories of being a child growing up in Monterey Park, before paved streets and tall buildings and rows of houses. She had a dog named Bob. He was a bull terrier and followed her on her many adventures through the dirt fields near her home. This was a time when children roamed free, explored, played and enjoyed the great outdoors. Before she met Grandpa Zim, she would swim at the pool in Alhambra. They wouldn’t find out till much later that they both spent many Saturdays there and were more than likely at the pool at the same time.
The year was 1937. They had both graduated from High School and each got a job at Kress’s Department Store on Main St. in Alhambra. My Grandma was petite with hazel eyes, warm coffee colored hair, and the most beautiful feminine hands and long dainty fingernails. Grandpa was tall, dashing in a dress shirt and slacks and had a shock of wavy auburn hair. He worked in the back of the store, stocking and making deliveries. She worked behind the counters of jewelry, makeup, perfume and gloves. Becoming involved with a fellow employee was strictly forbidden. Grandpa recalls, with great disdain, the person that enforced that rule, and many others. “Old Lady Dunn.” She was a rather large woman with an even larger voice and manner. It was never a good idea to cross Ms. Dunn, if you knew what was good for you. I heard this story so many times, mainly because I asked to hear it again and again, that it now plays in my mind like a movie. I can clearly see Ms. Dunn setting forth her rules of expected behavior. It was fate or destiny that my Grandparents met and began seeing one another. I always asked if they were worried about “Old Lady Dunn” finding out that they were a couple. Grandma gave the same answer every time. She didn’t care. She wasn’t about to let someone tell her what to do. She was somewhat feisty for a young church-going girl in the late 30’s, but that was my Grandma, filled with determination and purpose. Grandpa told me that one of their first dates was at a Chinese restaurant just down the street from Kress’s. He still loves Chinese food to this day. Grandma said that she was very excited to go on a date with Zim when they first met, her reason? He had a car! Her last boyfriend only had a bicycle. It wasn’t until after several dates that she found out the car actually belonged to Grandpa’s father. “So much for that!” she’d say.
They told me these stories with such detail that it seems I was a part of them as well. Either they were great storytellers or I was a good listener. I am now yearning to hear more stories, and also looking forward to writing about those that I already have in my heart. I wonder if I have what it takes to make my memories come alive again. Bob Hope’s famous song is now playing in my mind and I am humming along…”Thanks for the Memories.”
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