Today is my grandma’s 123rd birthday. No, she is not here to celebrate. She passed away 40 years ago this August. Though I turned 12 just a few days before her passing, I have relatively few memories of her. She was placed in a nursing home when I was about 9 and spent the last few years of her life there. Though the facility was actually within walking distance of my home, I let one traumatic experience keep me from visiting as I should have. I regret that but also acknowledge I did the best I could at the time. This story isn’t really about that though. I have written quite a lot about my grandma – perhaps out a deep sense of guilt for not visiting – I am going to map out a rough sketch of the things I know.

Grandma was born January 11, 1902 in Caledonia, New York. Her mom Fannie was 37 and her dad Frederick was 32. She was the youngest of 3 and the only girl. Though, years later when grandma was older and, in fact, a grandma, she found out she actually had 3 older brothers. Her oldest half brother was raised as an uncle in her grandparent’s home. The family story is Fannie was assaulted by a drifter while on her family’s farm. As a result, she had a son at the age of 19 who happened to fall in birth line with the last few of her siblings. It wasn’t until his last will and testament that grandma found out he was her brother and not an uncle.

When grandma was 9, her mother died. Shortly after, the first Mother’s Day was celebrated. All the students in class had to wear a carnation for their mother. But if the mother was deceased, the student wore a different color of flower. Grandma was the only one with a different color and did not want to be different from the rest of the class. She hated Mother’s Day ever since.

Seven years after grandma’s mom passed away her dad married her mom’s sister, Laura. Out of all her aunts, Laura was not grandma’s favorite. But that is unclear if those feelings were present before the marriage or because of the marriage.

Grandma received a teaching certificate and taught school in New York. Including a stint on Long Island. She had another half brother born when she was 24. While she wasn’t a fan of his mom, she loved her younger brother.

I wonder what her life was like living in New York, teaching school, being what her day would consider an “old maid.” The places she went to. The things she experienced. The friends she made. All those stories are lost.

The family story goes that she suffered from chronic bronchitis and on recommendation from her doctor, took a sabbatical from teaching. It just so happened a friend needed to go to Reno, Nevada to get a divorce. Grandma was in need of a dryer climate so the two set out for an adventure of a lifetime. They traveled west in grandma’s car following for the most part the old Lincoln Highway. We have a copy of grandma’s journal that she kept detailing their journey. It’s the only journal she ever kept and it’s relatively few pages starts their trip in New York and ends in Denver. Because Denver is where they ran out of money. The last entry mentions they “washed the back of their necks” and went looking for a job.

As luck would have it, the superintendent for a small southwestern Wyoming community was in Denver looking for teachers. That’s what brought grandma here. Her personal journal ended, this is where we pick back up with family lore. The plan was to work here for a year and then continue on their way to Nevada.

Grandma lived in an apartment building that housed teachers. In fact, that building still stands today. A couple of houses down lived a family that had been in the community since the late 1800’s. The father was a former mayor and though they had moved to the other side of the state for over a decade, they were now back in the community. The mom suffered from rheumatoid arthritis and was bed ridden. Most of the kids had moved out but the youngest, a son, still lived at home.

Was it proximity that brought the two together? I wish I had the details. But I can imagine grandma coming to this home to meet the family. The father had moved from New Orleans to New York before coming west so I like to think they had some New York stories to swap. At any rate, grandma and grandpa were married May 10, 1930. A couple of things about their marriage date. Grandpa’s mom passed away just five days earlier on May 5, 1930. Also, May 10, 1911 is when grandma’s mom passed away when she was a young girl. So, maybe the date was specifically chosen to help counteract the bad vibes associated with it? It seems significant to me and not in the least coincidental but that’s just my opinion.

What happened to grandma’s friend? Did she ever make it to Nevada? We have no idea. We only have a first name – Tensie – and it might even be a nickname so I’m not sure if we could solve this mystery.

My grandparents married at the onset of the Great Depression and work became tough to find. At one point, the family which consisted of the two parents and two sons, went to New York for a bit. My grandpa was looking for work and they stayed with grandma’s family for a time. But grandma wanted to come back west, back home.

In the 40’s, my grandpa was in ill health for a time to the point they thought he was going to die. All of his siblings gathered to say goodbye including a sister that lived in Georgia. But he had surgery and was able to rally.

So, there were probably relatively few years when grandma could be a housewife only. She worked and taught school for most of her marriage. Not only that, she took care of the house with 3 children, and an ailing husband.

In the 1950’s, the teacher certification requirements changed and she had to attend the University on the other side of the state to keep her teaching credentials. She did what was required making several trips across the state.

In 1964, my grandpa passed away and she became a widow. She taught school as long as she could before retiring. Around 1982, she could no longer live on her own and did not want to be a burden living with any of her children. She went into the nursing home and died in 1985.

This is not much for 83 years and a lot of it comes from stories that we try to remember the details of. Some of it is speculation on my part like grandma swapping New York stories with her father in law. Or the significance of her wedding day. Or what she did as a single woman in her 20’s in New York.

The point is she lived and loved, laughed and learned, hurt and mourned like we all do. She was a young woman of New York who became a Wyoming woman. There are so many details I wish I knew and I hope at some future time, I will get to ask some questions because I have them ready.