Why?
Because I get better looking everyday.
If I told ya that I say this at least once a day, you probably wouldn't believe me. You also wouldn't believe a lot of the things that come out of my mouth. In the words of my loved ones "you can smell the [crap] before it comes out of your mouth." Yeah, to be honest, I like to extend the truth sometimes. Usually for the laugh. But that's all that matters right? No, well it does to me.
My dear old GamGam Maria, 5'2 Dutch lady, is probably one of my favorite people in the world. And I'm a few days she will be 70. There's no possible way that she's that young. She has beat my sister's [bottoms] as well as mine, probably more than my parents ever. She has put the wrestling moves on my sister Nicole. She has rolled up a magazine and chucked it at my other sister Tia and dropped her like a sack of potatoes. And she has bit me. This all has been in the last 5 years. Don't believe me? You don't have to, but just let me be the first to warn you not to piss her off.
I used to think I got my temperament from my father. But guess what, he gets it from his short fused mother. Who woulda known that the Dutch are so short fused. I've always thought they were the kind of people who just visited coffee shops, got high, and did their own thing. NOT THIS OL' LADY. She's gonna kill me for sharing this, she's probably in the mafia, but this old lady has a sailors mouth just like her granddaughter, and I couldn't love her more. A week ago I broke my toe and every word that went out my mouth was followed by gasps, ahh yes, just like my heritage-Dutch, Polish, German, and RUSSIAN. I learned this today. Explains EVERYTHING.
When I was 12, it had to be at least 90* outside and this lady had the windows rolled down in the taho driving to the farm, complaining about how hot it was. So I reached over and pressed the snowflake Icon on the thermostat and lord know it, cool air. "Now how the hell did you do that?!" She exclaims, baffled. I told her that I pushed the snowflake. Her response, "my hell, I thought it was a sun. So I thought to myself not to push it cause it would get hotter." I laughed for about an hour, then for an additional 12 years. I tease her to this day about it.
I also taught her how to text and Facebook. I swore that I wouldn't do it, but when she raises her voice, smirks her evil little smirk, and laughs I know I'm in trouble and that she's gonna bend my arm until it breaks. And then she discovered emojis on her own. Lord help us all. She is unstoppable. Speaking of unstoppable, the woman still skis, on the bunny hill, but still goes. I took her up to Elk Meadows, aka eagle point, and I remember watching her have herself a yard sale-crashed and lost her beanie, poles, and a ski- and she laughs gets up gathers her belongings and keeps on trucking. I laughed so hard, and teased her about me taking her to the hospital cause she broke her hip and that woman swung a pole at me.
I don't always tease her, sometimes she has some educational classes for me. Like she taught me that if we were to hide a body anywhere not to do it in the backyard. Also she taught me about a job well done, "if you're gonna kill me to get my money be sure to do it swiftly, thoroughly, and when the judge asks me to put the gloves on, put additional gloves on." Oh my. This lady.
Today I called her, because she wanted to make sure I was bringing a +1 to her 70th bday party. And in that hour long call she told me that my lineage is full of Dutch, Russians, the Polish, and Germans. She told me about her father who was in the Nerherlands Army-who basically were bullied by the Germans. See I never got to know my great grandparents on her side. Her father Pieter Hooft, was a shoemaker. He would trade leather for food during the war. He and his wife Ceslawla their two children, Joyce and Bep would fill suitcases of food and throw them over the fence to their family because they were starving. *nice to see where I get a little of my compassion*
One of my favorite stories that she tells is when she was 6 and her family decided to join her older sister Joyce in the United States. See my grandmother was 12 years younger than Joyce. *after war child* Maria, "tia" as her friends called her, her father Peter and mother Ceslawa, jumped on a ship and sailed to America. See when they lived in Amsterdam they kept their medical records under the rugs. Safe keeping. And somewhere along the line some water got into her father's X-rays to make it look like he had pneumonia or something of that sort. So when they arrived at Ellis Island they placed them basically in jail. Males separated from females. She attended school while there until they were cleared to enter the US. Her parents had saved up enough money to send them all on this new journey, only to be that close to America. But after a while they were cleared medically and they entered the United States like many immigrants. Then made their way to Utah.
The part of this story that always hits hard to me is when she describes seeing the Statue Of Liberty. She never really went into details of the appearance, but when Grans described seeing the Statue of Liberty from Ellis Island vs leaving Ellis Island you can feel all the feelings. It always makes me appreciate my freedom more and more. To have her go through that so that I could be here today. For her to pass along these stories to me, it just makes me tear up a little. The quote of the day was definitely one from her, "I'm so soft looking I have to be tough. Just like you Melanie." Yeah she's got a point. I couldn't ever fathom what it was like. Not knowing a lick of English and being scared. Being separated from her father for days. Not knowing if they would have to be shipped back. It is just such an eye opening experience for me.
This story along with her conversion story always put a smile on my face. Grams grew up Dutch-Catholic. So when they came to good ol Utah they were in for a culture shock. But she ended up tagging along with friends to primary and said that she had to wait until she was 18, I believe, to get baptized. From 6-18 waiting to do something that you knew was right, 12 years, wow. The patience on this one is phenomenal, even if she doesn't show it she sure is patient.
I could go on and on about how much I learn from her, and how in awe I am of her and her resilience. But I'm going to just say, that I have learned so much from her. She's been so patient with me, and always open to me and my problems. And I'm certain we will have more stories.
So moral of the post, call your parents and grandparents. Have them tell ya stories of their youth. You'll be in for a surprise. They have some good ones. I promise.
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