Sarah Gassen: What would Gram have thought of Donald Trump?

Gram would have turned 100 last week.

She’s been gone a year and a half, but she’s still with me. I think most of us have dear ones — human or otherwise — like that in our lives, who are gone but remain close.

Love can get crowded.

I miss Gram’s sharpness, her unfettered willingness to share her opinion with all who would listen, even those who weren’t remotely interested.

We had our weekly 3 p.m. Sunday calls for years. We counted on it.

I’d save up things to tell her throughout the week — little absurdities from the world, like this email:

On June 7, UA President Ann Weaver Hart signed the Interim University Policy-Making Policy, which replaces the former Administrative Policy Formulation policy. The new policy is designed to streamline the processes of creating and revising policies, as well as clarify procedures for repealing policies and making non-substantive revisions. The policy and supporting procedures are available…

Oh, yeah. Policies. She would have loved that.

I’d have told her about the plumbing company pickup truck I saw the other day, with an illustration painted on the driver’s side door of a person from the shoulders down, sitting on a toilet, pants around the ankles, so it looked like the truck driver was sitting on the can.

I’d explain how Olivia the Wienerdog is so over the yappy schnauzer next door that she doesn’t even bother to bark at it any more. Gram loved her schnauzers, Gus and Jeb, so that would have given us a lot to talk about.

The best people are dogs, she would say.

She would have loved hearing about how trash cans go floating downstream when monsoon rains flood Tucson streets.

In our weekly calls we’d talk about politics, and I think she enjoyed sparring with someone willing to give it back to her.

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She was a lifelong Republican from Nebraska, which is the best place in the world, she would be sure to tell you.

We would go around and around about elections and issues and she would eventually say, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

And we’d move on to the personal lives of my dogs or pet mice or guinea pigs, and all would be well.

She wouldn’t remember the names of my friends, so she’d come up with descriptions from stories I’d tell her about them. How’s your friend, The Nudist? she would ask.

There’s so much in this interminable presidential campaign we would have talked about.

She would have had no affection for Hillary Clinton, I can tell you that right now.

If she had any secret satisfaction about seeing a woman in the Oval Office, it would have been overrun by criticizing Clinton for being pushy and bossy while failing to acknowledge the irony of her assessment.

I don’t think Gram would have stood for Donald Trump, either.

She’d have dismissed him as a showboat, and seen right through him. She would have had no patience for his ignorance about the world — “Belgium is a beautiful city” — or his limited vocabulary. She would be appalled that her beloved Republican Party had nominated such a buffoon.

There’s so much I’d like to tell her, so much to laugh about, so many ongoing discussions that remain unsettled.

We’ll never resolve the question of See’s versus Russell Stover candies, or if birds have names for each other, or what is the most boring vegetable.

So I’ll keep collecting bits and pieces to share. It’s a way to remember.

Gram’s no longer here, but she’s never far away.