grandma – Julie Anne Taylor

Jodie, Janette, mom, and I had been planning for weeks for the big party for Papa. We had shared multiple messages about the decorations, the guest list, and of course, the food. We were all super excited that the baby, Janette, was able to fly down to be with us to celebrate. The anticipation for the big event was building.

On the Friday before the party we had planned a shopping trip to Costco to buy all of the food we needed for the party. Carty joined us for our girls’ day, and the five of us set out early to run all of the errands together. I cannot remember the last time we were all able to spend an entire day together like that. We laughed, cried, bickered, and teased ourselves through the morning as we loaded up with way more food than we really needed. The plan was to shop early and then spend the afternoon prepping food. Jodie had found our grandmother’s recipe for Waikiki Meatballs and the plan was to attempt to make them just like Edith used to. We followed her hand written recipe to the letter. As we worked through each step, we shared stories of our sweet Grandma, and teased each other that “that’s not how Edith would have done it.”

As we sat at the table rolling dozens and dozens of meatballs, we tried to remember the last time Grandma had made them for us. We decided it had been over seventeen years! Every Christmas Eve we would gather at Grandma’s house. She would have her house decorated beautifully. The table would be set with flowers and candles. And every year, in addition to a wide variety of finger foods, Grandma would always serve up a big batch of her Waikiki Meatballs. I can remember it like it was yesterday. She would serve us on her small, delicate, crystal plates. Matching crystal cups surrounded a large punch bowl. I remember thinking how “fancy” it all was.

The smell of them flooded the room, and my senses as my sister Jodie cooked. It is amazing to me how the brain works. As they cooked up, I was taken back to all of those Christmas Eve celebrations in an instant. All of us remarked how they smelled just like when Grandma made them. But the anticipation for whether they would taste the same continued to grow. Finally we couldn’t wait a minute longer. As soon as the taste filled my mouth, tears began to spill from my eyes. They tasted exactly like my Grandma had made them. It filled me with so much nostalgia. I felt joy as I remembered what an amazing woman my Grandmother was. I felt so sad that she was no longer around to share life with. I felt excitement that we had the recipe and could continue making it for our families.

As we carried on our work of preparing for the party, we shared so many memories. Memories of our Grandmother. Stories about our childhood and trips we had taken together. And it all started with that recipe. We were enjoying our time together so much that we turned it into a slumber party. We perused through hundreds of pictures. We shared storied. We snacked (occasionally sneaking a meatball or two when Jodie wasn’t looking). We decorated. We stayed up way into the way laughing and talking.

This time with my mom and sisters is priceless and I will never forget this weekend. The party was amazing and it was so good to see all of the people who came out to love on my daddy. But if I’m being completely honest, the unexpected highlight of the weekend was the time spend and memories created with my sisters and mom. I will cherish those forever. Our family has been through a really rough time over the last year. Even though we are so very different and at times those differences cause us to bicker and fuss, we are still family. And family is everything. I’m so thankful that my daddy is still around to celebrate his eightieth birthday. I’m thankful that his birthday created a weekend for my sisters and mom to be together. And I’m even more thankful for Grandma’s Waikiki Meatballs, and that old handwritten recipe.

This summer I gained a new title…Mimsy. My son and his wife made me a grandma! Zach and Katie live in Columbus, about two hours away from me. They went to the hospital on the evening of June 15th. I knew (thought) that it would be a slow go, being there first child, but by the next day I was hovering over my phone waiting for an update. Zach was very good about sending the play by play to our family group chat…”she’s at 10 cm.”…”she’s ready to push…” But after that, it was radio silence. I paced. I ate (I’m an emotional eater). I called my daughter. It felt like a century went by before I got the call. That moment in time will forever be etched in my memories. I was sitting at the house alone. Jason Aldean music was playing on the Alexa in the kitchen. My phone rang and Zach delivered the news I was not so patiently waiting for. Baby boy was here. He and momma were both healthy and doing great. He came into the world at 7 pounds 8 ounces. He was 21 1/4 inches long. I was a grandma! The phone call was brief as Zach went to be with his wife and new son. When I hung up, I sank into the couch and sobbed. I gushed the happy tears. Alone in the moment I didn’t even know what to do with all of the emotions. I have never felt anything like what I was feeling in that instant. I thought there could never be a better feeling than that.

Until the moment I finally got to hold him in my arms and introduce myself to him. The plan was to wait until Zach, Katie, and Parker were home and settled in before I went up. I remember those days of being brand new parents and feeling completely overwhelmed with a whole new reality, wondering if you’ll ever sleep again, and having constant people in your house. As hard as it was for me to wait, I wanted to respect their time as a new family. I had planned to go up a few days after they arrived home. However, the morning of my planned trip, Covid struck our household and my plans were sidelined. I was devastated, but also thankful that our daughter’s results had come back so quickly and that I hadn’t exposed my son and his family. Thankful – but beyond disappointed. So I waited some more. Thankfully Zach and Katie sent tons of pictures and face-timed often.

After a five day waiting period, and two negative Covid tests, Carty and I hit the road to Columbus. My anticipation made the drive pass quickly. The moment we stepped in the door and I saw my son holding his son, the tears came again. When people tell you there is nothing like being a grandparent…well, now I get it. Seeing the man that I gave brith to and poured all of my heart and soul into, now doing the same with his own child left me breathless. Holding Parker for the first time was all that I ever dreamt it would be. He was absolutely perfect! Zach and Katie were so at ease with their new roles as parents. I was amazed at how natural it all seemed to come to them.

I know that people become grandparents every day. I’ve watched two of my siblings experience it before me and listened to them tell me how fun it is and how much they love their family additions. I knew I would experience all of those same feelings. What I did not expect to feel so deeply was the overwhelming awe and pride in watching my son be a daddy. Words are escaping me right now as I attempt to share those feelings. This man, who I spent all of my time and energy raising and shaping and molding was now responsible for another life. He was taking care of this tiny human. And he is so good at it. Watching Zach and Katie love on their son was and is, by far the most amazing part of this whole experience. I love being a Mimsy! But I also love being momma to Parker’s parents.

Tag: grandma

Family is Everything

Just call me Mimsy