A dinner invitation of sorts

My grandpa, Homer Jaynes, my mother's father, died when I was one year old.  My whole life I have felt just a little bit cheated because I don't remember him.  I've heard lots of stories about him.  My parents grew up in the same place so my dad knew him.  I grew up in the same place as my parents so there were people that knew my grandpa and told me small stories about him.


In my mind, I have an idea of his personality and I have no idea if it's accurate but I am pretty sure of one thing:  I would have liked knowing him.  He was funny and generous and liked to read.  He served ably and faithfully in several church assignments.  And sometimes he tried my grandma's patience.  I love to hear stories about him that give a little window into his life.  I also love the few pictures I have of him.  Especially the ones that have me in them.  They are photographic evidence that I have a Grandpa Jaynes, he's just not here right now.

Isn't my grandma pretty?  Also, our grandpa is holding Marianne but he's looking at me.  I must have been his favorite...

The following story was written by my inestimable sister Olivia.  It's a story we heard growing up.  By way of explanation, in case you aren't familiar with Mormon church organization, a "stake" is a larger geographic area made up of several congregations.  There is a presidency that presides over the stake (and travel between different congregations--which were far apart in rural Nevada).  There's also a stake high council that helps lead the stake.  My grandma's name is Thelma too so don't let that throw you off.  She's the Thelma in this story.

It was a typical Sunday afternoon at the Jaynes home.  Homer was traveling for his calling in the stake presidency.  Thelma had had a big dinner with all the rest of the family.  Coralee and Mark and little Marianne had come over for Sunday dinner after church.  The dishes were done and everyone was contentedly sitting around visiting when there was a knock on the door.

Thelma got up to answer the door and was surprised to see Earl Bonham, of the stake high council, at the door.

"Hello, Brother Bonham," she said.  "How are you?"

"I am well," he said.  "And these," he handed her a box of chocolates, "Are for you."

"Well," Thelma said.  Now she really was surprised.  "Isn't that nice?  Would you like to come in?"

Brother Bonham came in and sat among the family.  Things were a bit awkward and Thelma tried to make conversation.  Mark suddenly became very busy straightening Marianne's dress.

"You were passing through anyway?" Thelma said, trying to make sense of this unexpected visit.  She had expected Brother Bonham to state the reason for his visit by now, but there didn't seem to be a specific one.

"Yes," he said.  They were silent for a few moments and then they would attempt again to make conversation--Brother Bonham's family was fine, and nobody seemed to know what else to say.  Finally, the high councilman made a move to leave.

"Well, we appreciate you stopping in," Thelma said.  "Thank you for the chocolates.  I know Homer will be disappointed that he missed you."

"Do tell him hello for me," Brother Bonham said.

Later, when Homer arrived home, Thelma greeted him and said, "We had an interesting visitor.  Earl Bonham from the high council stopped by.  He must have thought you would be here.  It was the funniest thing though--he brought me chocolates."

"Oh!" Homer hit his head, "Earl stopped by today? Oh, Thelma, I completely forgot!"

"Forgot what?" she asked.

"He told me he was visiting Montello this week and I invited him to stop in to eat Sunday dinner with us on his way home."

"Oh, Homer, you didn't!"  Thelma couldn't believe it.  "Why, you never said a word about it to me!"

"I guess I forgot," he said.

"That poor fellow!" Thelma said, "No wonder he brought those chocolates.  He must have sure thought it was funny that we didn't offer him anything to eat--we'd already eaten!  Oh, I could just die!"

I love this story, even though I know my grandma, who has impeccable manners and was always a gracious hostess, must have been humiliated.  The story shows a real marriage (and the mistakes that can happen) shared by two people I love--even though I only know one of them.