The Things We Remember About Erma

Kristin wanted a drawer to her desk that was in our garage, and after she found it last night, she began going through things she kept in it. There was a card from her Grandma Thomas, one that expresses so many things that were fun about her.

I remember Erma a number of different ways. One year after she lived a while in her new house, she had the entire family come to dinner. There was a large table set in the dining area for adults, and she also had rolled out carpet in the two-car garage and set up a table there for grandchildren there too.

During the dinner, I went to check on our three children, whenever I heard anything that sounded like the little dears in the garage were having "way too much fun." I had already set my plate down twice with food, and after returning to a spot to retrieve a fork or knife or getting food for one of my children, I noticed my plate was gone. It happened again when I checked things in the garage to ensure that my children were not doing anything to hurt the new house. Again my plate was gone. It happened five times.

The last time it happened, I finally found out what was happening to my food. Each time that Erma saw a plate unattended, she took it to the sink and discarded the food and put the plate in the sink. Erma was an incredible host, and she was just making sure that everything was tidy. Ann and I still laugh about it when we think about that day.

But the other thing are the things she made for us. The inside of the card that Kristin found talked about that very thing.

When Ann and I were in high school and both attending Second Ward in Malad, we had a Sunday School teacher we all loved and enjoyed. Brent Howard was incredible. He read the lesson and emphasized the main points we needed to know, and then we talked together. What made him so incredible is he listened to us. Brent was a fantastic teacher, because we knew he "liked" us, something not necessarily true with all those who taught our large group in Second Ward. It was our group that boasted having "run out" many teachers who did not care about us, or at least that was the impression we had about them.

Once a week during the summer, our class organized a swimming party at Downata Hot Springs in Downey, Idaho, which was only forty minutes away at the time on the Interstate and old highway. Our group would ask Ann to volunteer her mother to bake a cake for us each time, and she did. It was always a three-layered chocolate cake with rich, dark frosting.

This picture happened at least 12 years before those parties at the pool, but most of the group is here, except for me. My family lived on the ranch during the week, but when I was older, my dad always made sure we drove to Malad on those evenings when I had these parties. I rarely missed one, unless we were harvesting grain or some other major problems took place.

And like all of my peers at Second Ward, my children loved Erma's cakes too. She made one every week and had it ready for when we visited her on Sundays.

Oh, and Erma also made individual puddings and tiny bowls of jell-o for grandchildren too. They were always waiting in the refrigerator, just in case they were still hungry after cake and ice cream.

This is the last photograph I think we have with my Annie's family together like this. Things change so quickly. I still remember the jokes Marvin told me at the restaurant that day. They were not off-colored, but they were hilariously funny.

After Erma's passing, the only place in the house that showed carpet wear was in front of her fridge. And I am sure that the grandchildren will remember opening its door every time they visited grandma.