9 Important Things My Late Grandmother Taught Me

I was honored to deliver the eulogy at my maternal grandmother, Myrle Dee Grubbs Benton‘s funeral. In her eulogy, I talked about nine important things my late grandmother taught me.

9 Important Things My Late Grandmother Taught Me

My grandmother was a wife, a mother, an aunt, a grandmother, and a friend. But, most of all, she was a teacher. This is what she taught me.

She taught me to enjoy the simple things.

My grandmother loved being outside. She loved gardens and birds and dogs. She loved drinking black coffee and Coca-Cola. She loved eating dessert. She loved the colors purple and red. She loved sitting on her front porch with my grandfather, whom she affectionately called “Benton,” and watching her neighbors come and go. She loved fishing on a pier in Rockport for hours. She loved watching the deer graze at San Felipe State Park.

She served a big meal for lunch, or “dinner” as she called it, and cereal with milk for “supper.”

My grandmother taught me that done is usually better than perfect. She taught me that it’s okay to make mistakes. She wasn’t great with details, and she made a lot of spelling (and factual) errors over the years, but she didn’t care. She focused on the big picture.

She taught me to be independent.

My grandmother loved to tell everyone that she was the youngest child of four and the only girl.  She was 8 years younger than her youngest brother and learned to fend for herself, with some support from her dad, pretty quickly. Shortly after my grandparents got married, my grandfather spent her entire teacher’s paycheck on hay for his cattle, so she opened her own bank account and kept their money separate from then on out. I’m not sure she ever forgave him for that one.

She taught me to be resourceful.

My grandmother taught me how to remove stains by hand in the sink with a bar of soap and some elbow grease. She taught me to sew. She taught me to make my own Barbie clothes from fabric scraps and pieces of my grandfather’s torn blue jeans. She taught me how to make deviled eggs and how to bake the perfect “Martha White” cornbread in a hot cast iron skillet.

She taught me to love holidays and traditions and antiques.

I still display my grandmother’s 1950s white tinsel Christmas tree and her 1900s hand-painted, milk glass Easter eggs. She couldn’t wait to open and give presents each year on Christmas Eve. One Easter, my grandmother bought baby chicks for my brother and I to play with in the living room on her hardwood floors. That was a bit of a disaster but a fun memory nonetheless.

She loved St. Patrick’s Day because it was her mother’s birthday. She loved watching the Macy’s parade on Thanksgiving Day and the Rose Bowl parade on New Year’s Day.

Halloween was my grandmother’s favorite, though, because it was so close to her birthday on October 28th. She saved McDonald’s Happy Meal toys all year long to hand out to trick-or-treaters on Halloween night. (Did I mention that she was resourceful?)

She taught me to value spending quality time with friends and family, especially children.

My grandmother loved playing Bridge and going out to lunch with her friends. She had a difficult time saying goodbye to her friends in Sealy when she moved into assisted living near Austin.

My grandmother taught me to read one weekend while I was staying at her house in first grade. We read through the same Dick and Jane book over and over again until it clicked for me. The woman who was notorious for having zero patience had endless patience for me that weekend.

My grandmother loved seeing her great-grandchildren, who she called “the girls” and various other nicknames like the “Big One” and the “Little One” because she struggled to keep their names straight as her dementia progressed.  A couple of weeks before she died, she called them “Prissy” and “Ringtail.” She always told me that she wanted to be around to see them bring boys home during high school.

She taught me that if I didn’t like something I could change it.

She was always working on a project. She redid her kitchen and then her back bathroom just because she felt like it. She painted her front door and porches brick red when she was bored with the blue grey they had been for decades. She replaced plants in her flower beds, not because they died, but because she didn’t like them anymore and wanted something new.

She taught me to honor the dead.

She left flowers on her parents’ graves every year. She did extensive research on her family’s Ballard, Grubbs, and Fort genealogy from Kentucky and Texas all the way back to England. She loved to tell stories about her parents and brothers. Her favorite stories were about her dad — he traveled with the Wild West Show in a circus and later worked as one of the first electricians with Houston Lighting and Power. Her life became devoted to honoring my mother and grandfather’s memory in her final years.

She taught me to dream big.

She let me spend hours on her typewriter with her AAA guidebooks one summer, creating an imaginary travel agency and planning endless, imaginary trips for her. When I went through her filing cabinets a couple of years ago, I discovered that she kept every single piece of that project. In fact, she kept everything I ever made and gave to her in those drawers.

When I wanted to publish my children’s book, she offered to pay for the professional design. She was so excited to see her name in the dedication and wanted everyone in Sealy to see my book!

My grandmother encouraged me in every pursuit, except, ironically, when I wanted to be a teacher! She really wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, but I am just as stubborn as she was.

She taught me to hold on to love.

In her final weeks, my grandmother kept a piece of paper cut from a greeting card with the words, “Love you, Me” in my grandfather’s handwriting on her bedside table. His love was always with her, even when her dementia worsened. She always asked me if I was taking care of Travis, and one of the last things she said to me in her final days was, “Kiss your husband.”