I thought I'd change gears and tell you about someone. I was out of the loop for a while but now I'm back in the rut. A couple of you know my Grandmother passed away Jan 26th. We buried her Feb 3rd. I spent a lot of last week going to and from either LAX or the Hemet/San Jacinto area. I have to say it wasn't a horrible thing, actually. I was able to shuttle around relatives that I haven't seen in many years, and catch up on events in their lives.
"Granny" was what we called her. Granny was the name everyone called her, and I mean everyone. My family has a way of taking in strays. Not dogs or cats, but people. Granny was known to many of my "Uncles", "Aunts", and "Cousins" who I am not related to by blood but rather through her (and my grandfather) taking in these "relatives" when they were in need. Not that she needed any more mouths to feed, having 7 children of her own. But I guess she just didn't know how to turn anyone away. My parents kept the tradition alive and Mrs. DNA and I try to also (many bands have slept on our floors).
She was born and raised in Oklahoma. In 1937 the family moved to the Coachella Valley in California. Imagine the Grapes of Wrath but instead of driving they sold everything they owned and used the money to buy tickets on a train headed for (hopefully) a better life. I'm sure that the hard times helped make her the caring person she was.
At the viewing, the funeral, and the wake a lot of people talked about her cooking and how good her biscuits were. The biscuits she made were well known to anyone who had ever been lucky enough to visit her kitchen. I know you're probably thinking, "what could be so special about biscuits?". Just try to imagine your favorite food, and then winning the lottery while eating. Trust me, they were that good. The funny part about her cooking is that when she was a new wife she was a notoriously bad cook. I've heard stories of her trying to make rice or biscuits and being so ashamed of how the food turned out she buried it behind the house before her husband came home. But of course, when it rained all the evidence came bubbling up to haunt her.
When she died I found out something I had never known. Her middle name was Ruby. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it was a shock to me. How could I have not known her middle name? It makes me imagine that maybe she had some secret life none of us ever knew about. Maybe she was Amelia Earhart's copilot? I know it's silly, but I guess it shows you people never cease to surprise us.
At her death she was 95. She lived a very long life and had the family to show for it; 7 kids, 19 grandchildren, 24 great-grandchildren (with number 25 on the way) and numerous others who knew her and called her, "Granny".
Dorothy Ruby Julian
Born 6-10-1910
Died 1-26-2006
I can still hear her calling my name.
3 comments:
I'm so sorry to hear about your Granny. Sounds like she was a wonderful, warm and caring person. Ruby... I love that name.
Yup, she was pretty cool.
your grandmother lived a good life. she saw the next 3 generations. a few manage that. she was blessed.
you sound like you were very close to her.
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