Grammy Foote

When I think about Grammy and her visits to Des Moines, I remember mostly that I didn't much like her, and the feeling seemed mutual. (What I saw as proof: She would routinely give away money - paper money for Ron and Dick, change for Jeanne and I got the pennies from the bottom of her purse.) From earliest memories she and I were going at it. Once when I was about 2 or 3 we had an old desk phone that sat in the living room. It was big and heavy and white and I was fascinated by it. I'd pick up the receiver and hold it's heft in my small hands and listen. Sometimes we had a party line and you could hear conversations from strangers. Grammy sat in a big old easy chair across the room and would knit or darn socks, but always with an narrowed eye poised on "little Ruthy", or later "Bert". (I was the only one she could boss and she never seemed to know my name.) I'd pick up the receiver to listen, then realize that Grammy was in the chair right behind me. Sneaking a look over my shoulder, I'd see her glaring at me willing me to look at her. Once she caught my eye, she'd do the for-shame pointer fingers slide then make like she was snapping an imaginary

 bone in half.  She probably could have been a ringer at Charades because non-verbally, I got the message. She was never bested either - Ruthy caught me once sticking out my tongue at her from behind the kitchen doorway (I apparently thought I was hidden), and when Ruthy looked in through the dining room door, she saw Grammy giving me an impressive raspberry right back. 

She liked to put puzzles together and took sides when Jeanne and I would bicker over the puzzle pieces. I don't know about Jeanne's memories, but I often remember losing those battles after a swift kick in my bony shin by one of Grammy's orthopedic shoes under the card table. A lot of puzzles were assembled by force when Grammy would get sick of searching for pieces and resort to jamming a random puzzle piece into an open slot.

I was a bit grumpy when she hijacked my cat, Smokey, though. She always had her sewing bag on the floor next to her and Smokey made it his hiding place to sleep unmolested. He was off-limits if he was in, on or near her and at age 10, I didn't take kindly to that. She loved Ron and Dick who could coax shrieks of laughter from her when they ran through the living room in skivvies on their way to the bathroom. She sang and whistled all the time, however it seemed she'd sundown around dinner and float into sadness. Her mind was locked quite often in the distant past when she was newly married and living in Reeds Ferry. There was always a fear of falling, pain in her knees and her diminishing connection to present day. Having her in the house on those occasions she'd visit for a month or two, I learned to respect her in a manner that seemed ludicrous at the time. She wasn't just a feeble-minded old lady, she had a history rich in past events and people. Stories of Scotland would be something I'd enjoy hearing right about now, but I don't recall her ever speaking of those years before landing in the US to work in the mills. And work she did - she was 11 years old when she went to the woolen mills in Manchester.

 I love that Grammy Foote took off her glasses for this photo. Not sure if Ruthie told her to or she wanted to look more glamorous :)

 Here's how I remember her best, with glasses and her poor stiff knees. She must have been in so much pain during those years when she'd have to waddle about. I don't believe she could even bend her knees at all.