I have been thinking about my grandmothers a lot lately. Joy and Grace. Perfectly named! They were happy, funny, loving, inspiring and accomplished women. Bring your curiosity over here and read on to learn about two beautiful matriarchs.

GJ: born Joyanne Clarice Royer

Wife of Donald Congdon, she had four daughters. Originally from Kansas, she made a home in Hanford, CA. I was the first grandchild on my mom’s side. She injured her wrist right before or after my birth. Since she couldn’t use her dominant hand to sign Christmas and birthday cards to me, she adopted the name,“GJ” for Grandma Joy and the name stuck. Four grandchildren later, we all called her GJ. Even friends of the family referred to her as “your GJ.” When her first great-grandchild was born, she was upgraded to GGJ. Now there are SIX boys from a family of all girls! It is unfortunate that she only got to meet her first great-grandson, but I’m sure she is watching over all of them. Knowing her own children and grandchildren, she probably isn’t resting. We ALL need the supervision!!!

*Four generations with some of the Congdon family*

GJ gave tight squeezy hugs, pinched our cheeks and laughed a lot. She had a great sense of humor and loved to tell everyone stories about each other especially when they were funny or embarrassing. Believe me, we all sure gave her plenty of shenanigans to draw from. Speaking of drawing, she would save me scratch paper for me to use during my visits. I loved her for that.

Known for her hosting, cooking and baking, holidays and events were extra special with decorations in every room and a huge spread of appetizers (my favorite was the shrimp cocktail in fancy glasses and tiny forks), meals and desserts. Her pies were famous. She set out homemade thumbprint jam cookies, fudge, and divinity, after dinner mints, chocolate covered cherries and See’s peanut brittle (Papa Don’s favorite). I have since carried on the tradition each Christmas to make the jam cookies and buy the cherries and peanut brittle.

One of the first times I started partaking in alcohol as a young adult (I seemed to be a late bloomer in everything) was one Christmas when she announced, ”The bar’s open!” referencing the kitchen counter with a small ice machine for margaritas. I love margaritas to this day because of her.

GJ sewed clothes for her daughters. She also sewed dresses for my sister and me for Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. She made dolls and teddy bears wearing dresses that matched our own for one Christmas. I still have the doll and bear. I also still have a jacket she made me during my teen years. It’s too small for me now so my cats sleep on it during the winter.

I became her roommate shortly after my grandpa died. I took a teaching job a couple of towns away from her home for one school year. She would wait for me to walk in the door after work and announce, “Oooh, the school marm is home!” I was just a green 26 year old teacher, but I loved my nickname.

I got to know her more those nine months. We would occasionally go out to eat or drive around town. We loved watching American Idol, Home Improvement, Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune and The Golden Girls. Our family tradition that developed over the years was Mexican Train dominoes. Her friends, Herb and Barb, sometimes came over to play, too. It was especially funny because the old couple would spit and spat at each other, telling each other off when one of them lost with a beverage of choice at the ready (probably a margarita). One Christmas Eve, my sister and all of my cousins played each other at the kitchen table while GJ looked over our shoulders to see what we had ready to obliterate the other with. Our entire family loved this game and miss playing with her. I now have custody of the game! CHOO-CHOO!

*A brutal game of Mexican Train on Christmas Eve*

I now have GJ’s old car, “Joyride.” Yes, I name my cars so leave me alone. The only way to play music is the cassette tape deck and radio. Nobody is cooler than me! Every time I drive it, I feel like GJ is riding along. Some of her jewelry, trinkets, home decor and old computer made their way home with me. I took her death pretty hard. I’m still haunted by her final week in the hospital and final moments in hospice. She was the first in person death I ever experienced. While the traumatic effects linger inside me, I’m grateful I was there to say goodbye and watch my GJ make her journey to a place where no pain and suffering exist. Love you, GJ!

*GJ’s 86th birthday. I now have that necklace.*

*The birthday girl had her nails all done!*

Grandma: born Tsuruko Grace Okuma

Wife of Soei Sakima and mother of four children, my dad being the youngest, the Sakimas were born and raised in Hawaii. When my dad was around kindergarten, they boarded a plane for the mainland to start a new life in the Bay Area. I have photos of that event hanging in my art space of the Sakima family smiling under the weight of a mountain of leis choking their necks as if the islands were forbidding them to leave.

*Papa Soei and Grandma Grace leaving Hawaii for California*

*My dad, aunties and uncle leaving Hawaii for California*

I only had the first fifteen years of my life with Grandma Grace. Papa Soei died when I was only around two years old and I have no memories of him, only pictures to look back on. I have a photo of him in his favorite chair holding me as a baby passed out like a sack of potatoes in his arms. It sits proudly across from my art desk. My sister and I would start crying when our car pulled away from a visit to Grandma’s house because she was alone. She had two dogs, though. Gete, a kid-adverse poodle and Jessica, a calm shepherd at least kept her company. They must have been relieved after we left.

During our visits to her house, she was always loving and welcoming. One of my earliest memories of her is when she would wrap up a Kraft Singles cheese as a snack for my sister and me. Also, she had those small Dole pineapple juice cans chilling in the fridge ready for us. I thought it was just the greatest thing and I credit her with my pineapple obsession to this day. She absolutely killed it in the kitchen whipping up meals of Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Hawaiian, and many other cuisines. Back then I wasn’t too crazy about the foreign foods, but I reluctantly ate them: sushi rolls, nori, abura-age, musubi (with SPAM), wontons, tempura, shoyu chicken, chow mein and kimchi. Now I would KILL for a tableful of these delicious bites made by her. When I turned thirteen, I had a luau birthday party. Grandma was tasked with ordering authentic Hawaiian food like kalua pork, lomi lomi salmon and poi. We also had teriyaki chicken and fruit salad. She sat watching us try the food and asked, “How does the poi taste, girls?” The hilarious moment of the painfully slow pause morphing into mumbled, “Uhhhhh…ummmms” coming from the pre-teens and teens sitting on the tatami mats was captured on film. Yes, I still have the VHS tape of the party, now converted onto my computer. I believe it’s the only recording I have of Grandma so I cherish this. Special thanks to Lorrie, my kumu hula and friend for filming it.

*I can barely use chopsticks as an adult.*

I didn’t appreciate being Japanese as much as I should have been back then. I’ve mentioned before how challenging it was for me during my childhood. I regret not taking things more seriously and embracing my heritage. As a kid, you don’t necessarily want to be different or you’re just going to like the things you like. One of her other talents besides cooking was China painting. I remember tons of her creations in her home, my childhood home, and other family and friends’ homes. I love to draw so it was ironic that I didn’t seem interested. I remember that she kept her kiln in her garage. She made me some items that I have kept to this day, my favorite being a piggy bank with Big Bird on one side and Cookie Monster on the other. I cherish them and regret not paying more attention. Once she tried teaching me how to crochet. She sewed a lot, just like GJ did. I still have my pink and white baby blanket from Grandma.

When I was around first grade, Grandma paid for piano lessons and I acquired her brown upright piano. My teacher was our neighbor a few houses down the street. I struggled with the discipline of utilizing the instrument because I didn’t understand the importance of practicing my scales, learning time signatures, and mastering sightreading. I just wanted to learn songs and attempt to compose my own. As if I was brilliant enough to be able to do that. I did learn by ear to an extent. I regret not sticking with it. Dance had become a serious passion by the time I entered high school so I quit lessons. Maybe I could have gone on to play on Dolly’s records and be part of her touring band! The closest I got to being near my idol was when the woman who gave me the piano in the first place joined my family to attend the second of several Dolly concerts where I would find myself gawking and crying. I played hooky on my fifth day of my freshman year of high school to do it and I REGRET NOTHING! The piano is still in the family and soon I will have it in my living room to relive my fantasy of being the next musical genius (much to the dismay of my household’s fragile ears).

Another thing I wish I learned from her is Japanese. I don’t know how fluent she was, but I remember hearing her chatting on the phone in this language occasionally. I only know a few words, but nothing to hold a conversation with. It’s on my bucket list to try….itsuka wa.

Playing at Grandma’s house. I still have this Hawaiian dress.

Grandma, my sister and me at our aunt and uncle’s wedding. I don’t know what my problem was here.

Grandma was thrilled when my sister and I started Polynesian dance. To have her granddaughters immerse themselves in another part of the family’s culture (even if only by location, yet by heart). She missed Hawaii so I hope this helped her feel more connected to her past. We felt the same way. I loved playing her Hawaiian cassette tapes in her living room on the old school stereo. Later I got to keep those tapes and YES, I still have them. Yes, I have all of my dance cassettes, too. I REGRET NOTHING.

I wish I had more time with both grandmothers. I feel so lucky that GJ lived to age 86 and Grandma made it around 82. She was much older than GJ. Both sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles often spent time together so I have good memories of that as well as tons of photos to remind myself that we should all get along.

I like to think I’ve inherited the best qualities from them. I share their looks, personalities and interests. GJ always kept her nails manicured and polished. I remember bottles of nail polish in her kitchen and it was a treat for me to use it. Whenever I do my nails, I think of her. She always wore coordinated outfits with just the right jewelry and shoes. Starting in my pre-teen years, I was a fanatic about my outfits from head to toe. I gradually stopped caring about jewelry and outfits, but the fascination of nail colors remains. When I was little, my family went to Disneyland several times with Grandma. She loved It’s a Small World and the Enchanted Tiki Room. Those two attractions are the top of my list, too. I’m obsessed with that place. I think of her when I enter Adventureland to marvel at the birds, flowers and tikis in the famous tropical hideaway. When I step on board the boat to enjoy children from around the world singing about peace and unity, I think of her singing along.

I remember their voices and laughs, their sometimes stern and stubborn reactions to things, and their love for their family. On this Grandparents Day, I feel their presence, especially when their stubborn granddaughter plays those Hawaiian cassettes in Joyride.

Grandmothers

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