I have been fortunate enough to have been in the sphere of influence of numerous amazing women. If you are a woman and you know me, you can count your self among the amazing women. But a few float to the top as being special. The maternal grandmother position that was open in my family meant that several candidates stepped up to fulfill the role. In this case three were definitely better than one. The women who took me and my brothers under their wings were: Mary Gore, Betty Sue Sessions and Earla Bendell, known to us as Mrs. Gore, Miss Sessions, and Granny Bendell.
Mrs. Gore along with her husband, Mr. Gore, employed each of us at their theaters. Richard introduced us to the Gore's when he landed the projectionist job at the Rancho Drive-In Theater. Eventually, I was hired on as the weekend Candy Shop Girl and when he was old enough Chip became the projectionist at the State Theater. Ms. Gore capably managed the State while Mr. Gore ran the Rancho. Mrs. Gore had a no-nonsense attitude coupled with a great sense of humor. She was transparent about the difficulty of balancing competing demands of a business and family.
Chip was the closest to these great people. I don't remember the exact details but the Gore's opened their home up to him when the rest of the family had to be away. When we came back he had a new bike and he knew how to ride it. You can't get more grandparent like behavior than this.
One summer, I would wake up early to go walking with Mrs. Gore and her friend. I credit this summer with sewing the seeds fora love for walking that would later blossom into 10 hour urban hikes. I enjoyed the companionship and spending time with Mrs. Gore outside of the theater which was the motivation for the teenage me to get up at 6:00 in the morning to go across town for a walk.
When I think back, I see Mrs. Gore behind the office desk before opening or sitting in the box office selling tickets. She was a natural at taking care of a business and comfortable in her role as a mentor to her employees. And she remained calm one Sunday night when Chip and I had to stay after closing until Richard could retrieve us. We only lived two blocks from the theater but two blocks in the other direction from the theater a riot was raging.
But perhaps the most grandparently thing that Mrs and Mr. Gore could do was to postpone the sale of the State Theater and retirement (the Rancho had long been closed at this point) until Chip graduated high school.
Miss Session grew up in the same house that we did. When we moved in to town it was to what we have come to call the Old House. It was a rambling turn of the century house that was well past its glory but still stately it own way. Miss Session spent her early adult years in Oklahoma City but returned to Idabel to care for her ailing father and then her mother through dementia. Upon her mother's death she put her childhood home up for sale.
We didn't know that when we bought the house it would come with a grandmother, and it did take years for the relationship to develop. But gradually over time, visits to the Museum became visits to her home and then exchanging Christmas gifts, to her attending family gatherings. By the time I was in college, it was a tradition for me and Chip to go over the Miss Sessions to exchange gifts and have a cup of bourbon laced eggnog. My family, Southern Baptist culture, and Oklahoma in general has a long and complicated history with alcohol, so this was a more educating experience that one might think.
Once I travelled to Japan, Miss Session became my extra special person. She adored all things Asian. My experiences in Japan were validated by her, we developed a common ground and common language. And now that I older, I see that my life is in many ways parallel to hers. She was a spinster, lived her life on her terms and at least from the outside without regret. She may not have had children, but she had nieces and nephews, her adored dog--Little One Inch--and a real affection for my family.
She was always cultured and elegant. Beginning in Jr. High, we could talk Elsa Clinch and I received her back issues of Vogue and Architectural Digest which fueled my wanderlust and desire for a life bigger than Southeastern Oklahoma. She was the perfect role model for me, without her, I might not have had the courage to make my way in the manner that I have.
And last, but by no means least, is Granny Bendell. Mr. Bendell was her second husband. Her first was not deserving of her and she put up with him just so long before she ran him off. Her second husband was more worthy of her but he left her a widow by the time she came into our lives. Granny Bendell was the Maternity Ward Nursery Nurse at our local hospital where she and my mother became fast evening shift friends.
When I was a Candy Striper (only one p--I was a teen after all), on occasion she would let me come visit her and the newborns. She taught me a number of things about how fragile and resilient life can be, especially a new life. On rare, rare occasions, she would let me carefully hold a new soul just hours into this world. It was a very special experience that I will be eternally grateful for.
Outside work, Granny Bendell worked on petit-needlepoint--an intricately detailed artisanal craft of exquisite beauty that demands incredible patience and attention to detail. But she would also crack open a beer with my dad as we all enjoyed an evening of meteor showers on top of Big Cedar. I liked that she was her own woman on her own terms and would not be hemmed in by what society thought a woman should be.
Even though she wasn't concerned about what society might think, she was concerned about my mother's opinion. Later, after she retired from the hospital she returned to Oregon to be near her children. She ended up meeting Leonard and eventually they moved in together without a marriage license. To get married would have meant a diminishment in their retirement benefits. One evening when I was in Japan, Granny Bendell called me to come clean that she was living with Leonard. She was worried that my mom might call and he would answer the phone, thus giving them away and my mom would think less of her. I assured that although Mom is prim and proper, she has a strong pragmatic streak which includes letting people live their own lives. To this day, this phone call is one of my favorite memories. I was honored that she would call me to seek council on a problem that was eating at her. I was glad that I could assuage her worries.
So a trio of grandmothers who were not grandmothers--except Granny Bendell, filled the shoes of a vacant position. May they all rest in peace in the knowledge that they made three children's, now adults', lives more fulfilled. This was a role they opted to take and I am eternally grateful that they did.
Note: we did have a paternal grandmother--Nannie. And she was a wonderful grandmother that made the best chocolate pies and banana puddings, period. She lived in the Houston metro, us across the Texas border in Oklahoma. Distance and conflict resulting from her second marriage meant that we only saw her once of twice a year. In writing this, I do not want to diminish her as a grandmother, she was a fantastic one with admirable strength and courage.