The Tangrens

One of my earliest memories of her was when me and my sisters were with she and grandpa ( and probably my aunt Tami too ) in an amusement park ( it was probably Michigan's adventure or Cedar Point) while my parents were probably off on a romantic getaway that were so infrequent. I was a very picky eater ( as most kids are ) and didn't want to eat anything because it was different than I usually had it. Even something as basic and simple as a hot dog was too different for me and I refused to eat more than a bite. My grandmother worried and fretted all day convinced that I'd starve to death. Now thinking about it, every time she saw me that I can remember in my life, it seemed she commented on how skinny I was and that I was wasting away. I'm sure she continued to worry about me.

Another early memory is of her sitting down one day with me and laying out the generations of the Bible. I remember being impressed with her scriptural knowledge and had a great desire to be well versed in the scriptures and to be the scriptorian I perceived her to be. I remember later reading the Bible and wanting so badly to ask her some of the questions I'd had while reading but I was already living so far away and her mind had begun to betray her.

She was always an example of great strength and strong will. We Streeter women all have the fire of fierce loyalty and family protection. Anyone dares hurt a Streeter woman will see the fire ignite in all our eyes. Along with that fire comes fierce loyalty to family. I knew my maternal line much better than my paternal line in family history( at least back to Francis Pearl who brought our family into the church). Family comes first...no questions. Family needs help you drop everything...no questions. You knew your family, you spent time with your family, you loved your family. It's just the way it was. My mom, who has inherited her wealth of family history information, can attest to her passion for family history. I've heard so many family history stories. I know stories about my great grandma and great great grandma ( as well as grand aunts and grand uncles). How many people can say that?

My husband who didn't grow up around a lot of family and over the years has made family of friends that were as important if not more important in certain circumstances than family to him. It is a concept so foreign to me. My family were my friends. And they in all circumstances trumped any non-family friend.

I remember her telling me a story about when she and my grandpa were fairly newly married. He would smoke on occasion, a habit my grandma disliked being a member of the church ( which my grandpa wasn't at the time) and she'd talked to him about it but he would inevitably end up smoking a few cigarettes after work with his coworkers. So she decided to take a different tack and that if he was going to smoke...THEY were going to smoke. So when he was at work she went to the store and bought a couple packs of cigarettes. She tried to smoke them but couldn't bring herself to do it so she put lipstick marks on all of them, then lit them and put them in front of the fan to "smoke" them. When my grandpa returned home the rooms were filled with smoke and my grandma sat with cigarette perched at her lips. He walked in and she told them that if he wanted to smoke they were both going to smoke. He took one look at that at her and the room littered with cigarette butts and smoke and never smoked another cigarette.

Another thing I learned from my grandma was tradition. She is the founder of so many of our family Christmas traditions. That we met on Christmas Eve as a family ate goodies, had visits from Santa and opened presents with her and her brothers families.

Then when we met just with her family on Christmas eve how we continued to eat goodies had visits from Santa and also went caroling and became a tradition for all of the families we caroled to. And the manger we filled with the straw of good deeds in preparation for the Christ child to come also was started by her. She'd had the mangers made in order to start this tradition. I don't know where she got the idea. We began that tradition this year...the day she died, just by chance...or was it. Regardless this Christmas just won't seem complete without her there.

Her being strong willed and knowing her mind lead to those opinions being expressed and not always in the gentlest way. She definitely used some words we were never allowed to say and never heard in our house. I can remember dropping off she and my grandpa at the Rouge River to go canoeing. Somehow they ended up swamped and floating helplessly and aimlessly down the river with her shouting her dissent the whole way. She may have grumbled about her family from time to time but we know she loved us all just as fiercely.

She also made a quick connection to Derek. We went back to Michigan for the open house at the Nauvoo temple where we were to be married and for Derek to meet all of my family. My grandparents, at the time weren't sure that they'd go to our wedding since it was so far away ( about 9 hours by car ) and they didn't want to be a burden to anyone and didn't want to feel in the way. I wanted them to be there, naturally, and expressed that I wanted them there but it wasn't until Derek made his plea mentioning that she was the last grandma he had left that she consented. She was also the last grandma that I had left too but it just had more weight coming from him for some reason.

A couple years later we went back to Michigan for Christmas and my grandma didn't want to come to Christmas Eve because my grandpa had accidently hit the gas and had put a hole in the garage wall. My parents wisely sent us to go pick them up and Derek once again was the trump card in getting them to come. When we went back to Michigan for my granpa's funeral Derek met her with saying "How are you doing sweetheart?" and she later referred to him as her boyfriend not having total command of her vocabulary. They just had a special relationship too.

She was always in with fashion. Always seemed to know the latest styles and wanted to look refined, in shape and stylish. My grandma dressed better than me if truth be known. She had fabulous taste. She was also very aware of health. There were not a few times that I was reprimanded for being tan and how awful it was for your skin as she had me feel where she'd had skin cancer removed. If she'd only known how often I went to tanning beds as a teenager. Honestly I wish I'd paid more attention. Although I haven't gotten skin cancer I am a wrinkly woman at 34.

She loved "Murder, She Wrote" and "Perry Mason". She also read murder mysteries novels. She at one point or another fancied herself as a writer and was published in the Readers Digest.

She was always so organized. When I was back in Michigan a couple years ago we put up her Christmas tree and decorations. Every last thing was meticulously labeled and she insisted on everything being put back where it had been.

Later when my parents and sister were cleaning out her house, after she'd moved to assisted living they found that nearly everything in her life was labeled and organized. I wish I'd inherited that inclination towards order and neatness.

Something I loved about my grandma and have inherited the inclination toward is writing on the backs of pictures and writing out full names and dates taken. Details. Family History Details. When my mom was looking through my grandma's family history things she found stacks of pictures that were not written on that she had to throw away not knowing who these people were. That breaks my heart that she'd kept those for some reason, perhaps family pictures passed down from someone not as inclined to marking and kept them in the hopes of putting names on them from someone who knew them. As it turned out they were thrown away without any hope of identifying them. She wrote everything down. She knew not to depend on remembering the information or for anyone who came after to know, even though she spent her life making sure that family kin were known to her posterity.

Another thing I loved about my grandma is that she always held hands with my grandpa when they prayed together. Even and especially towards the end of his life when he wasn't as aware of things going on around him she would always be sure to take his hands when they prayed. To connect and be united in that prayerful moment.

I remember once when she was holding one of her great grandchildren ( I think it might have been Jillie ) turning to the father of the baby and saying proudly and matter of factly "We make them cute in our family". She loved her kids grandkids and great grandkids. Two years ago when I was back in Michigan between Thanksgiving and New Years with Hyrum we spent some time with her and she played and played with Hyrum. Tossing a ball to him and having him run for it. When we were decorating the tree he'd bring her ornaments and they'd look at them together.

One day when we were at her house and she was folding some laundry she made a bridge out of a towel and Hyrum walked happily back and forth under it forever.

I'm so glad they were able to have that time and even though Hyrum won't have the memories I have the pictures and videos and he will know that he'd met her and that she loved him. We're going back to Michigan this Christmas and I was so looking forward to having her meet Noah. When I got pregnant with him and my mom told my grandma she told me that all of a sudden in my grandma's declining mind anyone that was of child bearing age was pregnant in her mind. I'm sure in her excitement for the new baby and us not anywhere near she made those around her pregnant so she could be a more active part of the happiness. So that she could be near us in some way despite the distance. Over Thanksgiving break as my parents and my mom's sisters sat in vigil at her bedside my dad called me to give me the opportunity to say my goodbyes over the phone. I tried to think of something important to say. All I could think to say was that I loved her and that I missed her and wished I was there. I wanted her to at least hear Noah. I wanted her to hear him laugh. So she could have some connection to him...that I could tell him that she'd heard him laugh. But instead he did little screams. At least she heard him. I go over and over that conversation. I should have told her the things I'm writing today. But it's hard for me to say things that are this important. It's easier to write them. I hope she knows. I can only believe she does.