Her Name Was Lois; A Tribute To My Grandma

My Grandma always wore nail polish and lipstick. I know because she often gave me the colors she bought for herself that didn’t end up being “just right.” She wanted red, but not too red. The undertones needed to be orange, not blue. But not too orange. And with a little brown mixed in, but not too much brown. She was very particular about this, you see. I do believe my love for all things makeup and nails was literally passed down to me by my Grandma.

She passed down a lot more than that, though. For one, she taught me a lot about cooking. I know how to make a turkey, cranberry sauce, gravy, and mashed potatoes all from scratch because I watched her do it for years. I also use her lasagna recipe to this day. My daughter has mastered the famous Linge potato salad recipe she and Grandpa made for most holidays. Every time I eat it I smile. I remember one day when I was young, my brother and I were hanging out at Grandma and Grandpa’s house and we got to being a little bored. Grandpa had just brought in a giant bag of fresh oranges, and we begged to make orange juice. Grandma said yes, and oh the chaos that ensued. I am positive her kitchen must’ve been sticky for days. There were orange rinds everywhere and orange juice dripped from every imaginable place. We had a blast. And Grandma never once got upset at our giant mess or the fact that we didn’t even help clean it up (we were very busy drinking our orange juice!). Now, I’m sure she didn’t have a good time cleaning up after us, but she never let us know. Grandmas are like that. Especially ours.

And something else that perfectly describes her…she was spunky. Boy did she have sass. Pretty sure I got some of that, too. Once, when I was a young teenager, she had taken me to my dentist appointment, and we were on the way home. We had stopped at a signal where she discovered that the teenage boys in the car next to us were paying me some attention. My Grandma, without hesitation, leaned over me, cranked the window lever to roll it down, and said “Hey boys. Take a picture…it’ll last longer!” I was of course mortified, but also amused, and even a little bit proud that I had a Grandma as spunky as her. I hope I am that spunky when I have grandkids.

She and Grandpa were always there for my growing up years. They never missed an event, awards ceremony, gymnastics meet, concert, or birthday. They were one of the many beautiful examples I had growing up of how important family is. We always knew that no matter what, they would be there. We also knew that no matter what we needed, it was probably in Grandma’s purse. I think my brother’s favorite item was the copious amount of lipstick-stained tissues she would hand us if we sneezed. “It’s better than nothing,” she would tell us. She was right, of course. My favorite thing to find in her purse was the sugary gum that mom wouldn’t buy us, but Grandma kept stashed in there.  It actually tasted horrible, but we chewed it because keeping the gum secret was fun, and we also knew there were plenty of lipstick tissues to put it in when we were done. Also, I think mom actually knew about the gum, so it was only us who thought it was a secret.

Here’s another funny thing I learned from my Grandma’s house…how to grind coffee beans and brew coffee. I used to beg her to let me help, even though I hated the taste of it when I was little. This is ironic, given the fact that it is my favorite beverage now. The difference is that I like almond milk in mine, and she drank hers black like “all good Norwegians,” she would say. The smell of coffee reminds me of Grandma’s kitchen, and I like that.

Lastly, my Grandma showed me a simple, uncomplicated, yet strong as nails faith. Her faith in God was unwavering, even through the many hard things she had to endure in this life. She constantly talked of church, her Confirmation as a teenager, church events, church choir, and she understood God’s sovereignty. She knew this world isn’t perfect, but that she had Heaven to look forward to for that. She knew there was much she couldn’t understand here on Earth, but that she would have new eyes to see these things in Eternity. Well, Grandma, you made it. You made it Home. I know you’re singing in Heaven’s choir right now. I’ll join you when I get there, but until then, I’ll put some coffee on for the both of us.