Can I say anything to help you?

 

I have a Grandma Barb. I think everyone should have a grandma just like her. Not related by blood but a grandma by choice, not by chance. I grew up with her being close by and always watching over my brother and me.

Back then I didn’t call her Grandma because her mother was my “adopted” grandma. Her name was Grandma Hart. Until I learned to spell I thought she was my Grandma Heart…as in the Grandma who held my heart. When my brother and I would visit Grandma Hart she would make us a treat and I remember singing the scandalous song Wake Up Little Susie in her living room that had a beautiful view of Lake Superior from the Cramer Road. Grandma Hart liked to bake and would ask us to pull rhubarb for her so she could make us an amazing rhubarb cake.

I started calling Barb “Grandma” when my daughter Zoë was little. She loved to visit Grandma Barb at her cabin in the woods. She was fascinated by her outdoor bathroom and wood stove in the kitchen. Grandma’s daughter Esther became one of Zoë’s favorite babysitters and friends. One of Grandma Barb’s granddaughters grew up to have a child of her own and named her Zoë Rae after my Zoë Rae. How many little girls get to have a baby named after them? Somewhere I have a picture of Zoë Rae holding Zoë Rae.

 

Whenever I am doing something difficult or challenging I think of my Grandma Barb. She is very encouraging but she also has a wonderful sense of humor. If I am tackling a huge pile of dishes or laundry one of her favorite sayings is “Can I say anything to help you?” She doesn’t offer to do it of course but she laughs at her own wit and I am compelled to laugh with her.

Grandma Barb has been there for most of my life’s ups and downs but the one that stands out in recent memory was my brother Gary’s funeral three years ago. She brought a homemade spice cake with peanut butter frosting. It had a little sign: “Gary’s favorite cake.” She had remembered that he requested it every birthday. I took one look at her and at that cake and I cried like I have never cried before. She remembered the important connection we all have to food and memories. Thank you Grandma Barb. You’ve said a lot that has helped me. Peace, Sandy

You can’t buy happiness but you can buy cake, and that’s kind of the same thing.

Taste of Home columnist Sandy (Anderson) Holthaus lives on a farm in South Haven, MN with her husband, Michael, and their children Zoe, Jack and Ben. Her heart remains on the North Shore where she grew up with her parents, Art and LaVonne Anderson of Schroeder. She enjoys writing about her childhood and mixes memories with delicious helpings of home-style recipes.