My Last Grandma

When I was born, it was into a family that was FULL of Grandmas.

I had a Grandma Dess, a Grandma Dee, a Great Grandma Billie, and a Great Grandma Wilma. 

Every one of them was amazing - and all of them in their own way. 

The only problem with having a family full of grandmothers though, is knowing that at some point, you're going to see each of them for the last time. 

We lost Great Grandma Wilma and Billie when I was in college - and Grandma Dee not longer after. 

This week, Grandma Dess, my last Grandma passed away. 

While I never wanted to be the type of guy who didn't call his Grandma "Grandma" - the term "Grandma" never really seemed to fit Adessa. 

I think that's because Grandma Dess never really grew up, she just got older. 

I remember sitting in her front room one time listening to her try to explain how she felt frustrated with her body because it didn't feel the same age as her mind. In her mind, she said she still felt like an 18 year old. 

She must have been in her 70's when she said that. 

Growing up, Grandma Dess was always fun - and always up for it, too. She was compassionate and caring - and had no room in her heart for bullies. 

She never understood why people didn't want same sex couples to get married - and couldn't comprehend how a person could be racist. 

She helped to teach me that the best thing a person could be was kind, and every new person that Grandma Dess met was a new friend she had just made.

She met my Grandpa Don when they were 14 years old, and knew from the start that he was her soul mate. They married at 16, and lived together as best friends in love until he passed away in 2018. 

They were the kind of special that everyone hopes to one day be a part of - and so very few people actually get to experience.

When I was a kid, I used to go to their house every Wednesday after school - and for years as an adult, I talked to her every Sunday on the phone. 

She'd tell me about people she had met, and things she had done - and how she didn't see how anyone in their right mind could like Donald Trump.

I have so many funny memories of Grandma Dess, but I wanted to share one memory in particular. It's a memory that I think perfectly explains why the term "Grandma" fit her in some ways - but in other ways, didn't at all. 

When I turned 13, she and my Grandpa Don told me that they would take me to see any movie that I wanted. 

Looking back, I think they used the word "any" because they thought a 13 year old would want to watch something a bit more kid-friendly than a couple in their 60's would willingly choose - but at the time though, I saw the inclusion of that word as my carte blanche opportunity. 

Because, you see, I turned 13 on June 27, 1996. 

Striptease, starring Demi Moore, came out on June 28, 1996. 

Grandma Dess called me and told me that they wanted to take me to any movie that I wanted to see. I don't think she thought twice when I asked "Any?" - because she insisted "Yes. Any." 

I hung up the phone and checked the newspaper. Saturday night at 8pm in Bartlesville, Movies Six at the Washington Park Mall was showing Striptease. 

I called her back and placed my wish - ready for her to laugh and shoot it down - but to my surprise she told me when they would be by to pick me up. 

Did I think it might be uncomfortable seeing a movie called "Striptease" with my 61 year old grandparents? Of course. 

Did I think it was my only chance to see Demi Moore naked? Right again. 

So that Saturday, they picked me up and we headed to the mall. We stood in line, and with a straight face, my Grandpa Don bought three tickets to Striptease - two for he and his 61 year old wife - and one for their bright-eyed, chubby little 13 year old grandson. 

And then there we sat in the movie theater - me in-between both of my grandparents, watching a drunk Burt Reynolds try to woo a topless Demi Moore. All three of us laughing together at the absurdity of it all. 

Sometimes, I wonder which specific life events made the most impact on my personality as an adult - and I can't help but think that this was one of them. I laugh until I cry almost every time I think about every bizarre aspect of that night. 

Grandma Dess was just... different. 

She loved violent movies (as long as the bad guys were the ones getting hurt). She and Shelly talked far too long for me to be comfortable about how much they both loved the 50 Shades of Grey books. 

She liked bourbon with *just a little* water in it. 

So, tomorrow we drive to Bartlesville for Grandma's funeral. It'll be a sad day because we miss her - and a sadder day because it means the world is down by one when it comes to genuine and pure souls. 

They say that everyone dies two deaths. One when our body expires - and another the last time someone mentions our name. 

Thankfully, I have enough memories and material to keep Grandma alive for as long as I'm here.