FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Nana Mom Norberta Grandma

Sandy's Memory

My first memories of Grandma Martin are actually some of my first memories ever. There are three things that are quite vivid, considering how young I must have been. I remember standing with her at a wooden fence feeding Rainbow the pony apple slices, and I think I remember something about sugar cubes. I must have been only two or three. I have another memory, and this one is a little fuzzy. I seem to recall sitting outside on the back door step of Grandma's house and eating Missy's dog food with Steve. I'm sure it was Steve's fault. He must have put me up to it.

The other memory I have was after we moved to Hawaii. Grandma and Grandpa came over for a visit. I'm not sure what boat we were living on--Avanti or Windbaron. Anyway, I believe that we were sailing to Maui when the hatch slammed on Grandma's finger. I remember that she was in a lot of pain. I felt really bad for her. I recall that her fingernail turned black, and I was told that it was going to fall off. Yikes!

When I think back on my granmother's visits to Hawaii, I see a tall, slim, elegant woman. Her hair is done up perfectly. She is wearing a Hawaiian dress and always wore some beads or a pretty shell lei around her neck.

Oh, and I just remembered this was to be about two paragraphs, and I have just about written a book. Grandma, I would like to wish you a very Happy Mother's Day. I'm sure you will have fun reading through everyone's memories. We are looking forward to having you and Dad over for Chris's graduation. We'll be seeing you soon!

Lots of love,

Sandy

[pictures of Sandy and Steven in Livermore and Honolulu here]

Alex's Memory

My first memory of Nana is in the Tucson kitchen. She's very very tall and slender with brownish-gray hair-and she's very busy fixing sandwiches or preparing other kinds of food. She stands up very straight; she has excellent posture. Every morning she gets up very early to get breakfast ready, so when we would come into the kitchen, there we'd find our grapefruit cut into halves and the sections scooped out, the table all set for us nicely, ready for us to sit down and eat. After eating our grapefruit, we'd pour ourselves huge bowls of Cheerios--and I remember looking forward to Tucson partly just for the Cheerios (which we didn't get in Mexico)--big bowl, with the milk poured clear to the top if the bowl and the Cheerios spilling out over the edge and the big yellow Cheerios box with black letters sitting right there so that we could pour ourselves seconds.

Raquel's Memory of Nana

me screaming "MOM!!!" in some part of the house and Nana explaining to my surprise that maybe, just maybe, Mom is busy doing something of her own and it would make more sense to go find her instead of expecting her to rush to my aid

having a bag full of Kraft caramels in her bag the week she came to Mexico when Robbie was born

ironing my socks when I visited Tucson

having milk in a crystal pitcher every morning at breakfast. always having dessert after dinner and wondering why our mom didn't have the same rule

insisting that we tip the cereal bowl away and trying to explain to us illogically why stirring ice cream is considered rude

Raquel's memory of Grandpa

hearing him tell the story about how he missed me being born because he was flying a plane to Dallas

hungry after we'd been swimming in Tucson, asking Grandpa ifI could have some orange cheese and being baffled that he didn't know what that was (he couldn't figure out what sort of cheese would be orange flavored)

sitting in Grandpa's shop in Tucson smelling the wood and oil and watching him fix things at the bench. watching him play the accordion after dinner in the living room. helping skim and vacuum the Tucson swimming pool and looking at all the bugs in the filter

after a hot summer day, sitting in front of the TV with Grandpa drinking 7-up and saying, "you don't REALLY want to listen to this do you?" while he watched 60 minutes, which seemed so much more boring than talking with me, and being surprised that he actually was interested in hearing the news

driving 3 days from Mexico City and being excited to get out of the car and go running up to the front door of the Tucson house to ring the doorbell and get surprised hugs and kisses from Nana and Grandpa

 

Julie's Memory

My first memories of Grandma consist of our visits to the house in Tucson where we spent our Christmas holidays when I was very young. I remember Grandma had some miniature figures that she displayed on her fireplace in the family room. One miniature in particular was a very small model of an old 19th-century wood stove (used in a kitchen for cooking). It had little pots and pans that went with it. I remember Grandma telling me a story about this wood stove and letting me play with it. I was enchanted with it, and it brought me endless hours of imaginative play.

Another memory I have is of hiking with Grandma in Saguaro National Park. On this particular occasion, I had gotten some cholla cactus stuck in my ankle and Grandma pulled it out with a comb. I remember being very upset and in tears about this and I remember the relief I felt when it had all been pulled out.

Robbie's Memory

The cooking and whizzing around the kitchen. "Toot toot" means something hot is coming out of the oven.

The table of grownups sitting around playing scrabble.

I was always fascinated by Nana's wheezer or the thing used to administer asthma medicine.

Nick's Memory

I remember a lizard on the wall.
I remember a fake Christmas tree.
I remember shaggy carpet.
I remember convincing Grandpa to play a boardgame called Scotland Yard.
I remember the room with the Macintosh in it.
I remember secret passages.
I remember white cupboards.
I remember Grandma's desk with all the cubbyholes and drawers.
I remember eating spaghetti sauce because I didn't want Grandma to have to make me something else.
I remember being surprised when I asked Grandma for a peanut butter sandwich and all it had was peanut butter on it, no honey.
I remember eating lots of a dry cereal called Oh's while watching the African Queen.
I remember the cupboard where all the decks of cards were.
I remember the ice cream maker.

Robbie at the grill --bigger now

Nick at the grill -- bigger now

Doug's Memory

I t happened when living on Derby Street--the time when I first remember Mom assuming the role of Main Authoritarian.

"Don't" had become the key word of the day, the day I associate with my keen interest in construction. "The Berkeley" was almost framed up. There were ladders to climb, nails in wooden kegs to drop through holes in the subfloor, siding shingles to sail frisbee-like through what would become the big picture window of The Berkeley. What happened in the midst of all the job and joy of construction came the heavy hand of authority. The message "don't construct, don't construct" was loud and clear as the hand of authority that came crashing down on my bottom.

Later, shrouded with guilt, Mom led me back into the dusty living room in front of the unfinished fireplace where we both sat in safety dropping nails through knot holes while several men talked and debated over unrolled house plans.

Sue's Memory

Tall, dark-haired, high-heeled, slender beautiful woman--so so so much taller than I am--I have to tip my head way way way back to see her. She runs back and forth across the room--click click click click. She puts the ironing board down in the narrow kitchen but she doesn't iron just yet. Then she irons a big white shirt..

She's horrified. I'm not sure why. She yanks me suddenly out of the sandbox. No. No No.

I'm in the hospital and she is not there. I'm all by myself and people think I'm just fine but I'm not.

My head is about as high as the bed in the hotel room. I have a new doll. My doll is under the bed and I'm looking for her while two large grownups mill around.

I'm throwing up from the cigarette smoke and they are in the front seat and don't seem to notice.

Now I'm on my stomach in a cottage, helping Mommy look for turtles.