Grandma

I was fortunate to have known both sets of grandparents and a set of great-grandparents into my early adulthood. My very favorite grandparent was my dad's mother, Leah. She was born on this day in 1903 in Denver, Colorado. In July 1918, her mother died, leaving her to care for her older brother and their father. She and Uncle Jake followed their father to Los Angeles in 1923. She married my grandfather, Frank, in 1935, and they had two children together.

Whenever things got too dramatic at home or stressful in school when I was a kid, I'd ask to spend the weekend with Grandma and Grandpa "Camper" -- they owned a truck with a camper, and that is how I differentiated them from my mother's parents: Grandma and Grandpa "Gypsy," who owned a poodle by that name. Anyway, Grandma was just about the best pal a kid could have. She was always happy to help me draw animals, trees, cars -- all the stuff I liked to draw. When she wanted a little time alone, she'd set me loose in the kitchen to play with their dachshunds, Bootsie and Tinker. And at night, there'd be hot chocolate (in winter) or some other fun snack in summer.

When she died suddenly in 1984, I was so completely shocked; I didn't cry a tear until her funeral -- at which I sobbed harder than I ever had before or have since.