My sweet Grandma Pollie

My dear sweet grandma Bertha Elizabeth Parmenter Thueson, or Pollie as we all knew her, passed away on Thursday, March 13th, 2014.  She was 87, and she led a beautiful life.  As we attended her funeral, which was held on March 17th, I was overcome with feelings of gratitude for the person she was and the legacy she left behind.  I looked around the chapel at all of her posterity, these people I'm blessed to call my family.  People who astound me with their talents and abilities.  All of them had been affected by the influence of this tiny, feisty, lovable woman.  When I remember my childhood, it is riddled with memories of grandma and grandpa's house on Venture Place.

To this day I can walk through my grandparents' house in my mind.  Walking through the front door, the antique dresser with it's round mirror greeting us in the entry, both of it's drawers filled with bits and baubles for the grand-kids to create sculptures or art with.  The china hutch in her dining room filled with light, her pink depression glass dishes glowing in the sunlight.  The wall across from it an ever changing display of family photos, new paintings she had done, and 'art' the grand-kids had made.  The step down into the living room where her arm-less chairs beckoned us to leap upon the pastel pink and green flowers, careful not to hit the live ficus tree, and then flip through the photo albums that lined the shelves.  The over-sized blue couches in the family room where my cousin Christina and I spent many nights all tucked in upon freshly laundered sheets.  Grandma would lovingly cover the couches so we wouldn't feel the corduroy on our skin while we slept.  When they weren't covered for bedtime, I sat and learned at the feet of grandma and the other adults all about gospel subjects, politics, and funny stories of their past.  The basket of wooden blocks and marbles that was always ready for play during those conversations, as well as the mallard duck card holder we couldn't wait to crack open for "King In The Korner".  We would always attempt to beat her, but rarely did.  Moving over to the bar counter with it's swivel chairs and never ending deliciousness served up in that space in the kitchen.  Her rolls, her lion house recipes, and her cherry dessert squares.  Stepping out into the garage, the extra fridge that held her piles and piles of homemade berry jam.  The patio just past that where the fold down counter held many family get together meals and her large canvas artwork hung with pride of place.  I always marveled that she would put so much effort into a painting, simply to have it hung outdoors in the elements.  It was just who she was, always seeking to beautify a space.  The hopscotch path that led to the studio outbuilding with it's boardwalk deck.  Stepping through it's door, you could always feel excited knowing you were about to make something wonderful in her art studio, or simply run your fingers across her pointed colored pencils and clean paintbrushes upended in a soup can on the desk.  Her drafting board always held a work in progress, a barn or a painting of her beloved pink petunias.  Outside, grandpa's perfectly manicured lawn that stretched for ages, and the garden that was just as big.  Christina and I would spend hours in the raspberry rows, two eaten for every one that made it into the bowl.  The trampoline that existed in the space purely for the enjoyment of the grand-kids who frequented the home, especially for family dinner on Sunday nights.  In their latter years, they moved from that place.  It definitely was a bitter sweet thing to leave behind such a special place in my life.  Their next homes carried the same spirit, of course, but my most beloved memories are there at the Venture place.

As I reflect on how much of an impression their home made on me as a child,  I know it's because of the people that made it a home.  Grandma Pollie was a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a teacher, an artist, and so many other things.  As an artist, her home reflected the grace and beauty that she exuded in this mortal life.  She loved to take something ordinary, and make it extraordinary.  She loved her family, she loved life, and she loved the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I'm so grateful that I had the opportunity to call her my grandma, and to live and learn because of her.  Love you and miss you so much Grandma!