Allison Lanier
Memaw was the type of grandparent that was more like a best friend; she wasn’t exactly the life coach type. No matter what, she was always beside me, cheering me on, sitting with me when things were hard, celebrating victories with me, watching birds with me, and always eating Dairy Queen or Whataburger with me!
As a kid, I have very fond memories of Memaw. She would take us here, there and everywhere for her clubs but also just to spend time with us. She hosted the best holiday gatherings, specifically Christmas. I know each of us thinks fondly of all the Christmases and domino games at Memaws… well Pawpaw and Leah may not be so fond of the games, due to an overwhelming amount of losses. Poor Pawpaw, rest his soul, I’m surprised we didn’t kill him at a young age with all the times Memaw told us to jump out from behind her chair as Pawpaw walked in the door. She always got such a kick out of us scaring the hell out of him. We sure had some good times with those two.
Through my adult years, Memaw and I became quite close. I could vent about my husband and Memaw would tell me that men can be such buttheads (she used a different word, though). She was the type of friend that would sit beside you through the suck. She was really good at validation. She didn’t always have words of wisdom to offer, and sometimes we just sat in the quiet, but she was always beside me when I needed a safe place to land.
Memaw had a wild side, but she had amazing Grace. She was a proper lady with her clubs, but she was a whippersnapper to anyone who knew the real JoAnn. She never did mind stirring the pot or raising a little hell, as evidenced by her many trips to Facebook jail. I’ll never forget the time she called me asking if I could fix her Facebook. I thought she probably forgot her password or something, so I logged on expecting to do a little housekeeping for her… nope! She was locked out of her account because of some things she said to people on a political post. When I called her back and explained the situation, she said “well those people deserved it.” I’m sure they did, Memaw.
She was my grandparent that was proud of me for sneaking onto abandoned properties and bringing back evidence. We were planning a trip through Texas to look at abandoned buildings before she went to Vista. She was sad she wasn’t going to be able to trespass and explore the buildings, but I told her we’d have just as much fun just looking at them. We never got the chance to go. Alzheimer’s grabbed ahold of her hard and the trip never happened. I’ll always be sad about the things we didn’t get to do, but I’ll always smile about the plans we made and the trouble we were bound to find. It’s a good thing she and I didn’t grow up together; we probably would have been beside each other in jail… scheming our next adventure.
Rewind to circa de 1990’s. I know all of us grandkids remember Memaw on the sidelines of our sports games. Why do we remember? Because Memaw always showed up with her cow bell. I can remember Tracey running down the soccer field and all I could hear was that dang bell ringing in my ear. Memaw’s cow bell was unmistakable, and she was not the least bit shy about ringing it. She was so proud to be our Memaw.
As time marched on and the Alzheimer’s progressed, we all watched as pieces of Memaw disappeared. We each did the best we could to handle it in our own ways, but the fact remains that it’s extremely difficult to watch your loved one slip away. As I write this, it doesn’t seem real that she’s gone. I followed her journey closely, even FaceTiming with her just a couple of days before she passed. I asked her how she was, She told me she was doing wonderful, I told her she was a liar, and we both laughed. I will always long for another conversation with her. I will always wish she was still beside me. Unfortunately, that’s not an option for now.
So Memaw, crank it loud, hold it down til