Tag Archives: grandma

The George and Gracie Dream

I has a strange dream last night. First the setting: my parents, it seemed, owned a beach house of some kind (parts of which were being redone). I remember standing on the beach in the back yard while holding one of Mom’s golf clubs. A wave came by and pulled me into the ocean and for a few minutes, I lost the club (much to Mom’s consternation). Eventually, however, we found it, and all was well.

The strange part of the dream, if that wasn’t strange enough, was that George Burns and Gracie Allen were neighbors, and they frequently came over, though I had never personally met them. Well, this time, I was there when they came over and we sat around a table, and they proceeded to tell me a story about my grandparents that I simply wouldn’t have believed, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was George Burns and Gracie Allen telling me the story.

Apparently, what I’d heard about my Grandma was not entirely true. Growing up, she was actually a Vaudeville actress. She was a not a terribly famous actress, but she did well enough to make a living out of it. My Grandparents traveled quite a bit and would come out to L.A. to visit us, or go to Utah, or go to Florida on various cruises, etc., and apparently (according to Mr. Burns and Ms. Allen) all that traveling was due to my Grandpa’s acting schedule for shows that she would appear in. In a way it was disconcerting. I always thought they were traveling to visit us, but I guess if the acting allowed them to travel, then good for them. But still, my Grandma an actress?

Turns out that George and Gracie knew my grandparents pretty well and told all kinds of funny stories about them–George Burns funny–which nearly had me in tears. In fact, when I finally woke up from the dream, it was because I woke myself up laughing. This has happened to me from time-to-time, but never has it been quite as memorable as this.

Ten years

Grandma died ten years ago today and I still remember the day as if it were yesterday. She died at 11:05 AM and I, having stayed up all night sitting with her in the hospital, had taken a short nap and woke up as people began to stir around me.

From my diary, April 21, 1997

Grandma’s birthday

My diary reminded me that today would have been my Grandma’s 85th birthday. It’s been nearly ten years since she died. I’m not the only one who forgets from time-to-time. It happened to Grandpa too. Probably more than once. But the last time on record was January 17, 1997:

I called Grandma to wish her a happy birthday. Grandpa answered the phone and said, “Oh she’s not home for another half our or so.” Then he paused and said, “Oh boy! Is today the 17th? I’ve got to go and–uh oh–get her something!” Needless to say, I spoke to Grandma later and wished her a happy birthday.

(In that same diary entry, I mentioned the fact that Doug came over along with his new 1997 green Nissan truck. He also had his tongue pierced only a month earlier. Just wait until Ruby and Carson are old enough to read that.)