That great reunion day.
I learned just a few days ago that my grandmother, Bessie Warren Call, passed away. She was a month and a half shy of her 95th birthday. 95 years is a long time, and there’s a lot to know about Grandma Call. I’m certain there’s plenty I don’t know.
I grew up in Arizona, not very near my grandparents, who lived in Logan, Utah at the time. Every two years our family would pile into some heaping 4 door Cheverolet or another, (that seemed to always be what we owned back then) and drive up to the famous Call family ranch in Afton, Wyoming. It’s where my dad grew up, and it was the gathering place for these reunions. My dad was one of 14 kids, and most of them had a whole bunch of kids, so these were really big events. There was a huge hayride up a mountain that was still in my dad’s old backyard. We had a gigantic bonfire for roasting hotdogs. Most of the families camped next to the big buildings where the tractors were. It was an adventure. But I have to admit, when my parents told me we were going to visit Grandma and Grandpa, I had a very similar feeling as I did when they told me we were going to see Santa. I knew it was important, exciting even, but when the moment actually arrived to sit on one of those famous laps, I suddenly was struck with the feeling that even though I was perfectly safe, and with someone who loved me, I honestly had no idea who these people were. And when my parents divorced, I didn’t make it to the reunion for many years. I felt somewhat estranged from my extended family.
I’ve been blessed to be able to fix that a little during my adult life in Utah. My grandmother is an amazing record keeper and has published some things about her life and family. I’ve had a chance to study some of those things and learn more about her. Here are some very brief highlights of things I’ve learned. Grandma grew up in the wild west. Freedom, Wyoming. She lived in a house with a dirt floor. Her family had some struggles that made it necessary for her to be a primary caretaker of her many younger siblings. She had to quit school after the 10th grade, which was heartbreaking to her, in order to be able to support her family full time. Then she married young and had 14 kids. Her doctor told her she shouldn’t have too many. She just quit listening to him.
When my dad was a baby, everyone thought he would die. He was blue, and getting bluer every day. He wouldn’t eat. People came to see him and just shook their heads. My grandma never gave up on him. She held him skin to skin and literally nursed him back to health. She did everything she could and then fully expected God to pick up the rest of the slack, and He did.
Grandma was strong, brave, tough, and a very hard worker. She was struck by lightning more than once, and lived to tell about it. She baked many loaves of bread every day. All of it got devoured, every day. She worked out on the land. She wrote poems. She loved her husband very much. He passed away over 20 years ago. She picked up and managed to keep taking care of the apartments they owned and managed, kept watch over their properties and businesses, always kept an amazing garden, and always remained very active in her church and community. She learned to play the piano in her 80′s.
Grandma was always very concerned about her loved ones being well nourished. I have a vivid personal memory of a visit I made to her home with my mother shortly after I moved to Utah. Some kind soul in my grandmother’s ward had just had a successful hunt, and had given her a very large amount of ground antelope meat. My grandmother, being the resourceful person she was, decided to make it into 20 casseroles or so. Whenever she had company, she’d just pop one into the toaster oven. This is what she did that day when we came to see her. When she put it out onto the table, I wasn’t sure what it was. It looked like refried beans with cheese and onions on top, with an occasional noodle. When she told us what it was, I put a very small amount on my plate. Now, I know that what I am about to say here could get me exiled from the Call family, but I have to be honest. This casserole was not good. I managed to eat about half of the small amount that was on my plate. We all had a nice visit and went home. A few days later, one of my long lost cousins came to see me at my dorm. After 20 minutes or so, he finally told me he had been sent there by grandma to make sure I was not anorexic! I was touched that she would care or even remember, with all the grandchildren she had, and everything she had going on.
I have a half brother who at one time in life would only eat chicken nuggets. Really. I mean only. That’s all. I witnessed a miracle at one family reunion when Grandma got him to eat an entire bowl of oatmeal. Oatmeal!!!
I have had some wonderful visits with my grandmother. Once when I came to her home, she showed me a special book she was making about my dad’s life. (She did this for all of her children.) It had amazing photos, news clippings, and even old homework assignments from grade school. She showed me an adorable poem my dad wrote when he was a very little boy. I treasured that afternoon, learning more about both her and my own father.
Bessie Call is the grandmother of 96. Great grandmother of 282, the last I heard. Grandma also already has 40 great great grandchildren. It’s a gigantic family. But she never failed to make a quilt for every wedding, and if you ever went to see her, she knew just who you were, and you could tell she had done everything she could to know all about you. She loved every member of her great big family very personally.
Five weeks ago she learned she had cancer. It progressed quickly. When my aunt went to fill a prescription for pain pills for her, they discovered it was actually the only prescription she had on record for her entire life. Grandma mostly used ibuprofen pills to manage pain that most people handle with heavy doses of morphine, up until the last day or two. I went to visit her a couple of days before she passed away. The only thing she said was, “I hope the end is near.”
She now has the wish of her heart. I don’t know if there were hotdogs, a bonfire, or a hayride, but I’m certain that when my grandma crossed over to the other side, there was a marvelous reunion. I’m sure that my grandfather was so thrilled to see her again, and that a heavenly host welcomed her with open arms.
People work and suffer and slave their whole lives in order to be rich, successful, and famous, so they can be important, and be surrounded by people who adore them and worship them. Grandma Call was never famous. But by serving and loving her dear family, she was always surrounded by people who adored her. And she did her best to teach us all to worship God, who makes all blessings possible.
I wrote a song about her a couple of years ago, and I used some of her amazing photos to make a video. Even if you have no connection to her, I think you’ll enjoy it. I’m posting it here as a tribute to her. Click to enjoy. Photographs
Here are a few of the pig chases. Don't worry, none of the pigs were hurt :)P
