Grandma and the Cheerleaders

Oh, this is just a story of Grandma at her best and putting up with some of the worst. Grandmas have infinite patience for their grandchildren to do what would drive those same children's parents crazy. In fact, it was my best friend who reminded me of this great memory that touched her, too.

Grandma was always fascinated with the generations after hers. She was amazed at what we young women were doing and how we had the relative freedom to do it. Grandma didn't go to high school and no one made her go back in the 1920s. Many young women did not. She regretted that decision and had fun talking to us about our high school experiences, our grades, boys, and our activities. One of them was cheerleading.

Yes, cheerleading. I had neither intention nor courage to try out for anything back then, but  my best friend, Jackie (still to this day), convinced me to try out for cheerleading because she needed a partner in the tryouts. Oh, also because we had to be like our idol in the book, The Cheerleader, a paperback that forever changed our lives as 8th graders. It was practically a handbook to boys and high school in general, we thought.

The problem was the partner cheer--about which we both knew nothing. We hadn't been cheerleaders for Jr Football like some others. We did figure out that to get it right we should be in a mirror watching each other over and over again to make sure we were in synch. The problem was we didn't have a mirror that wide.

Grandma did! It was in one of the unused upstairs bedrooms where I liked to snoop. She had a mirror that spanned more than half of one of walls. It's another question I'd like to ask her: "Why did you have a mirror that big?"

It seemed like everyday for weeks, we showed up at Grandma's house in the afternoon when it was time for her to watch her soap operas and have her English afternoon tea. We shouted our guts out to the same cheer over and over again until we were convinced we were in synch in voice and arms and legs--'til we were convinced the judges would believe we were worthy of being high school cheerleaders. Not once did Grandma ask if we were done or when we'd be done or how many days were left 'til the actual tryouts. So we kept showing up and shouting and flailing until the day of tryouts. 

Yes, we made the squad, thanks to Grandma. When we talk about those tryouts, Grandma, her mirror, and her patience are always, always brought up. May we pass that patience and encouragement on to our children and grandchildren.