Last Tuesday was my parents' 53rd wedding anniversary. I was busy working that day, but I promised my mom well during our usual talk. She and Dad weren't planning to do much, since he's still dealing with a shrinking cancerous growth in his throat, but he has been able to incorporate more solid food into his diet. After the call, I started thinking about family for a while. In particular, it got me thinking about Dad's mom, my grandmother, the late Alma Backes.
Grandma and Grandpa lived in the same house in Cold Spring since 1960. Before that, they lived in a small house across from the town's floral shop. My grandfather built both houses. I've been in both, but the long house that used to have yellow siding (its current owners changed it to blue siding several years ago) is the one that I remember fondly. On the days when I went to visit them or stay with them during a day that I had off from school, Grandma would usually be in the kitchen, in the living room, doing laundry downstairs in the basement, working on a quilt in one room, or tending to her garden outside. She wasn't nearly the cook my Grandma Haider was, but she made simple meals and usually had treats ready for the grandkids. On days that I had off from school, we would walk over to the local library, go to the Dairy Queen sometimes for lunch, walk around the block, visit with neighbors, or just watch TV or read together.
Grandma loved the show Dallas. She even had a set of playing cards based on the TV show. She watched The Young and the Restless faithfully, and I appreciated that she let me watch Sesame Street, even though it cut into the latter half of her soap opera.
I spent many hours sitting at their kitchen table, coloring, drawing pictures on scrap paper that Grandma would give me (which were the clean sides of letters or old bills that she kept in a drawer), doing homework, reading, or playing card games that she taught me. She and Grandpa were frequent card players, and she taught me several games that I unfortunately no longer remember how to play anymore. Right before one of my parents would pick me up, I'd usually read the newspaper with my grandmother at the kitchen table. I remember her telling me that she liked the Spider-Man comic strip, which is interesting because she reminds me of Peter's kind Aunt May.
Grandma relied on my grandfather. Grandpa Backes usually drove whenever I went on errands with them or visited other relatives. He was a handyman who took care of a lot of things around the house. Grandpa Backes even had his own workshop in the basement. He built the high chair that I and all of their grandchildren used at one time or another, and he built the first set of steps that my parents had leading down to the dock after they bought their home on the lake, which replaced the half-logs that served as steps when we moved there when I was 3 years old. Grandpa passed away when I was in 6th grade. I was sad, because he was a good man, and he was always the oldest grandfather at my elementary school's Grandparents Day. I still remember being impressed that he was able to blow out all 80 candles that were on the birthday cake for his 80th birthday in a single breath.
After his passing, Grandma Backes lived alone in their house right up until my senior year of high school. She was pretty fastidious and independent before Alzheimer's set in. I remember being at the Minneapolis airport with my family to pick her up after she'd flown out to Idaho to visit my dad's sister, husband, and their three teenage daughters. Three teens in the same household can be a handful, but Grandma handled herself well. She was always someone that I could count on for advice and reassurance when I needed it. I'll always be grateful to her for that.
During my last couple of years of high school, we started noticing that Grandma's behavior was getting to be a little unusual. She would wander sometimes and get small dings in her car. Eventually, she was taken to the doctor's office, who gave the diagnosis of Alzheimer's. My parents helped to sell her house and we moved her into the senior apartment building in town. My other grandmother was also moving there at about the same time because she felt she couldn't live on herself anymore. Grandpa Haider passed away when I was 7 years old, but Grandma Haider was also very independent for many years after that.
My father took it upon himself to be Grandma Backes' primary caregiver, mainly because he couldn't count on his siblings to take on that responsibility. His brother made it quite clear that his wife and children were his top priorities, and his sister lived several states away. Alzheimer's takes its toll on a family. As the disease progressed, she relied on my dad more and more. My mom, brother, and I pitched in when we could, but as she got worse, it felt like she didn't really know us. I was sad when I first realized that because my grandmother was a wonderful, kind, caring person. I hated how Alzheimer's took that unique individual away.
Grandma and Grandpa were 11 years apart in age. Grandma passed away in March 1995, exactly 11 years to the day after her husband did. I was glad that she no longer had to deal with Alzheimer's anymore, but I still miss her every day. She was a great influence on my life, and I have many fond memories of her. Just this week, I was thinking about playing in their living room with my action figures, helping my dad and Uncle Roger install her window air conditioner, and taking walks around their neighborhood. I just hope that those memories will continue to pop up whenever I need to think about my family. They help me cope with challenges and trying times.
I hope you enjoyed this post. I may write similar posts on other family members in the future because I think that it's important to keep the memories of our lost loved ones alive. Until next time, have a great weekend, and don't forget to be kind to one another.
