Mema

My Mema passed away early this morning in her sleep. She has been ailing for a a few weeks and in a lot of pain so, although I know she is in a better place, it is still hard to let go.

Mema was born September 4, 1925 outside of Bartlesville, OK. Born Helen Elizabeth Wiles, when her mother passed away 4 days later she was renamed Laura Helen Elizabeth. She was raised by her grandparents and grew up with 3 older aunts who were sisters to her. She married my grandfather April 10, 1944 in San Diego, CA while he was in the Navy. She took the train with her youngest 'sister,' Ethel (10 years older than her), out to CA to marry my Grandad, John Moore (passed away January 1993).

My uncle and mother were born in California where they stayed for a few years before moving to Wichita. When my mother was 7 they moved to Broken Arrow. They lived on Lynn Lane, the curvy part that we all loved to drive fast on when we were young.

I was very close to Mema, probably because we were so alike. She loved gossip, soap operas, romance novels, clothes, and makeup. When I was little we would spend every Friday night with her and have lunch every Sunday with her. My favorite place to play in the house was her closet where I was in love with her shoes.

Mema was boy crazy when she was young (like me) and pretty spoiled (also like me).  In the last few years I heard my mother say more than once, "You are so much like Mother," sometimes in amazement, sometimes in frustration. And there have been many times since I was a teenager when Mema and I shared frustration over my mother. She is more like her father.

Mema made the world's best mashed potatoes, she always made me Pillsbury cinnamon rolls for breakfast on Saturdays, she made a chocolate sheetcake called "Johnny Cake" that I dream about, and the most delicious strawberry frosting ever imagined. She crocheted a lot until her arthritis got too bad. I have an afghan and a tree skirt that I will treasure forever.

She worried too much about everything, and complained all the time. She was forgetful (probably due to a stroke 25 years ago) and would frustrate my mother to no end. And thunder storms sent her right over the edge. Now those qualities will also be remembered fondly.

She loved her great grandkids even more than her grandkids. My girls just adore Mema. She was never really able to pick them up, but they would cuddle with her on the couch when we would visit. She taught Lily to color in the lines, even though her hand shook so badly when she held a crayon. 

I will always regret that I didn't come home for Thanksgiving this year as I had planned. But I know she understood.

This is not the most eloquent post. I wish I could put into words what I feel for her, but I just can't get it out. I hope this relays just a portion of who Laura, my namesake, was.