Button, Button, Who’s Got The Button?

I have very fond memories of playing a game that my grandmother called “Button, button, who’s got the button?” My sister and I would sit at the top of the stairs and my grandma would stand in front of us with one button in her hands. She would place her hands behind her back and say “Button, button, who’s got the button?” If you picked the correct hand you got to move down one step. With each new chance to pick the right hand, the magical phrase would be repeated. Whoever made it to the bottom of the stairs first, won the game. It was a simple game, but one my sister and I loved. I have many fond memories of my grandma Rubidoux.

I was the product of divorced parents, and it was my grandparents who picked me up from school everyday. I spent a lot of wonderful time with them. After my grandfather past away, my grandma moved from Illinois, where I live, to Alabama. Her oldest son, my uncle, was living there. It saddens me that I did not spend nearly as much time with my grandma in her later years due to the distance. I did go to visit, but it was much different not having her one town over. Over the years her health deteriorated more, and she developed dementia. In her last few months she moved back to Illinois and my aunt cared for her in her last days. My biggest regret was not visiting nearly enough at the end. It was difficult for me, as she was no longer the woman I remembered. I also did not have a close relationship with my aunt who was caring for her, as my mother and her had not gotten along in many, many years. I almost felt as I was betraying my mother when I went over to visit. In the end, these are just excuses, I should have swallowed my discomfort and gone to visit, and often. 

I am sure it was uncomfortable to care for a child in elementary school when you are elderly, yet she did it for me. I wish I would have given her the same respect. What I wouldn’t give to have one last visit with her, whether she was the grandma I loved growing up, or the woman who barely remembered me. I would gladly take either one and hold her, and tell her how much I love her. 

Every time I make a button I think of my grandma and all the love she gave me. I just hope she is smiling down and enjoying the buttons as much as I am. So hold your loved ones tight, and tell them how much they mean to you, some things in this life we are not given a second chance on. I have got to run now, because I am going to go play a good old fashioned game of “Button, button, who’s got the button?” with my two girls. I am going to tell them what a wonderful woman their great grandmother was. 

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Lindsay Klix

Artist and Owner of Off Your Rocker Pottery