Grandma Marler, a story

Continuing my walk through memory lane, we unfortunately had to celebrate the life of Grandma Marler (Sal's maternal grandma) only a few weeks back. 

For those of you who never were graced with her presence, imagine up a grandma that would always have cookies in the oven, one that you wouldn't dare say a curse word near, but if you did say a curse word, she'd playfully reprimand you by saying, "you're just terrible."

Grandma Marler would always approach looking for a hug, but when done with the hug, she would find a way to hold onto your arm or shoulder. She loved long physical embraces and I allowed it. And if you know anything about me and how uncomfortable hugs and physical embraces make me, you know this means she had a magical touch. 

Every year at Chili Christmas, I knew to expect Grandma and Clyde slightly earlier than the other guests. There's a part of me (and part of my ego) and believes this was so we could get some one on one time, because when Grandma Marler had a discussion with you, she listened to every word you had to say. She took it all in. And Chili Christmas was one of the few opportunities we had to get some one on one time. Every other event we were both at included like 28 other people. 

Anyway, most of my stories about grandma are just sort of the saccharine and sweet catchup chats. 

But there is one legacy that will live on in my hands and my hands only. (Until I pass it to someone else)

One of our combined Hickle/Marler (Leonard) family events where a big meal was being prepped, I was of course enlisted to help as the token chopper/stirring assistant for all the grandmas. 

I was chopping some vegetables when Grandma Marler sort of called over my shoulder, "Mr. Dan, would you please come over here, I would like to show you something."

I turn around and she has some pan drippings in a small saucepan and a whisk being held, handle out, toward me. "Go ahead, take it. Today, I'm going to show you how to make my gravy."

Now, you're thinking homemade gravy: drippings, flour, and pepper, right? WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONG! Well, actually kind of right, but also so wrong. 

Yes, the ingredients are drippings, flour, and pepper, but grandma transferred some sort of magic to my hands that day that only I possess. 

I had made gravy in the past that was good, but this was great. Ever since that day, any event where there's drippings, I get out my sauce pan, I whisk whisk whisk with one hand, while throwing flour and pepper with the other, whisk whisk whisk, and then we're ready for some delicious sauce on everything. 

So, for the rest of my life, everytime I whip gravy up, I'm going to have Grandma Marler in my brain for at least that moment. 

Ann Rigby, a story

"You don't take pictures of the bad times, you only take them of the good times." - Dan Rigby

I always have these weird fantasies where someone is going to call me out of nowhere to speak and fill time. So anytime I'm at an event, while you're talking to me and probably passing on valuable information, I'm day dreaming about what I would say if I had to get in front of a room of people and win them over. 

Unfortunately, two people I knew have passed away in recent weeks. Even though these are somber events, I still had a story in my back pocket. (I don't take a break for sadness, for happiness, for exhaustion, keep that in mind next time you need someone to fill a speech role) Since I didn't get to share them during the services, I'll share them via my blog over the next week or two.