I Got It From Norma

I am one who has truly been blessed with an amazing heritage. The women on all sides of our family are very strong. Strong personalities, strong opinions, strong sense of humor, strong testimonies. These are all traits that I feel I have inherited. There is one, however, that always seemed so mild and gentile. This was my Grandma Nelson. She was the kind of woman who was an ideal grandmother. She was soft spoken, reverent, and always very proper. She had an old timey bun that she always wore on the top of her head. I only once saw her hair down, and I remember it made me gasp when I saw that she had hair down to the middle of her back. She was the kid of woman who doted on her children. "Paul, dear," she would ask, "what would you like for breakfast?" Then proceed on to the next. "Clarence, darling, what would you like?" She had six children. That will never happen in my home. With cereal, maybe, but with a breakfast made from scratch? No way. She was a collector. A serious collector. The kind that Oprah or Clean House would love to have on their shows. Pathways from one room to the next and every room filled to capacity. Clutter gives me anxiety. I love to get rid of piles of "things." I think I developed this because of her. We share the love to shop, but she only influenced my need to clean from her obsession with "collecting". Although we differ here, there is a great pleasure I have from knowing she was so eccentric in this way. The stories I continue to hear about her always amaze me. She died when I was in the 6th grade, and I feel that was the time I was just starting to get to know and remember her. I wish I had more time to get to know her, and I know that one day I will.

There is a particular memory I have of her that always makes me laugh. She was staying with us while our parents were out of town, and she was naturally trying to accommodate her grand children in every way. I, however, was much too independent for that. I remember telling her I wanted a drink. She said she would get me a glass, but I refused, and told her I would get it myself. I remember her face as she turned around and saw me standing on the counter. I did it on purpose. I always knew she was a worrier, and it always made me laugh when I got a rise out of this mild mannered woman. "Oh darling! Please get down! That is so dangerous. Please let Grandma get it for you." By then I had gotten the needed cup and was safe on the ground. This is where the story turns. Now, Grandma is the one smiling down at me as she watches me worry over my own children. This is what I inherited from her. I am a worrier.
I never thought I would be this way just because I was the one who was tempting others to worry. Even my cousin Stacey has had good laughs at my expense over my worrying natrue. I find myself struggling with the little milestones my children make or soon hope to make. For example, Spencer was talking about learning how to ride his bike without training wheels, and all I could think about was him forgetting how to use his breaks and zooming down the driveway right into the street. My heart stops every time I think about it. He wants a skateboard too. I keep telling him they are too dangerous. Now I can't even consider it after hearing about TC Rogers. How do I do it?
Well, a couple days ago I let him go to the "swamp" by our house with a buddy and his big brother. It is a little stream with reeds. They had nets and were going to do who knows what, boy stuff I guess. I couldn't resist driving by to make sure everything was OK. Of course everything was fine, and I am sure this little outing made our little guy the happiest kid in the world. Still, I struggle.
I know that worrying comes along with having children. How do you let go? How do you let them grow up? I once bought a children's first aid book so I could be prepared if anything happened. I had to shut the book after the first few pages because I was nauseous. I don't know if I will ever get over it. Like I said, it is in my nature. Either way, it is something that connects me to this amazing woman.

"The Swamp"The young Norma. So beautiful.

We can't forget Oli! I wov hu!