It was summer, 1963 and I was nearly four years old. Grandma B was gravely ill in the hospital, so Mom bought five tickets and took the whole family to Wyoming by train. We left in a hurry. When I asked why we were going to Wyoming, Mom explained that Grandma B had won a Shetland pony named Spookie in a drawing at the Safeway store. It seemed like a good enough reason to me.

When we reached the hospital, the kids were taken one at a time into Grandma B’s room. We were too little to remember the name "Bittleston." She was unconscious, and I remember wondering where the pony was. I didn’t know that Grandma B had been ill with cancer for two years. The doctors had tried radium injections and x-ray treatments, but the radium made her sicker and the x-rays left painful blisters.

Soon after we arrived, Doctor Brown, as sincere and caring a man as ever walked the earth, told Aunt Darlene to call a priest because Grandma B would be gone soon. The priest came and gave her the last rites. But Grandma B wasn’t having any of it. After being unconscious for days, she suddenly woke up and got out of bed!

She left the hospital three days later.

In no time at all, Grandma B was making fresh bread and strawberry jam, and watching as we each took our turn on the pony. She loved to sit outside in the morning, enjoying her coffee with rich farm cream.

When she went to see Doctor Brown the next time, he said that he couldn’t believe she had survived, let alone completely recovered. Perhaps the only time she ever cursed was when she told him, "By God, you’re only a doctor! Nobody but God knows when I’m going to die. I’ve got all my kids and grandkids to raise. I don’t have time to die!"

Grandma B lived for another 25 years. She always saw the good in people and was content with who and where she was. She had no recurrence of cancer, and died peacefully at 83 years old. She raised 7 children and 21 grandchildren.

I’ll always remember Grandma B.

by Donald D. Akers