When I think of my grandmother, my mind first flashes to a rest stop, somewhere between Birmingham and Atlanta, where my parents handed me off to my grandparents for a week. I remember there was banana pudding and I remember knowing I was safe.My grandparents' house was pretty much made for kids. Acres of land and woods with two large vegetable gardens, a chicken coop and a stream cutting through the middle of it all. The first thing I'd do once I arrived was run down to the stream to see if it had been raining and the water level was high. Floating boats down the stream was the best way to spend the afternoon.
There were sticky pads in her tub the shape of flowers. The carpet in the living room was orange and all the appliances in the kitchen were avocado. She kept potato chips, bread and ice cream sandwiches in her freezer and we never left her house after a visit without a bag of skittles and m&m's for the car ride. She used to say with complete conviction that ice cream is good for you because, of course, it's dairy. And she is the without a doubt the reason I love coffee ice cream.
I've never thought much about legacy. How when we die we leave a little of us behind in the people that we love. But she definitely did - children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren that long for the Lord largely because of the beautiful way in which she loved Him.
It's hard to write about her and feel like my words hold any meaning in regards to how deeply and how fiercely I miss her. She was there at the beginning of me and she is part of the reason I've known love. But for ten years I've longed for this day, in a lot of ways. And finally, the disease hasn't won. My grandmother is Home.
Wow, this brought back such strong memories for me. I usually try not to think about growing up at our grandparents' place because it fills me with so much sadness. I remember that rest-stop too. I remember she had this toy game where you squirted water in this little tank and tried to make these divers make it into a submarine. We played it all the way back to her house. Do you remember that?
ReplyDeleteI guess, I guess that's all I have to say about that. Thank you for writing and sharing this.
Ok I just saw that this says it was published in April, but it showed up in my feed reader this morning. Maybe you wrote it then, published it now, and forgot to change the date? I don't know.
ReplyDeleteYeah you guessed it. I never published it...not sure why. But here it is now.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes - I do remember the diver game. That's crazy. I never would have remembered.
I remember
ReplyDeleteher washing my hair in the sink.
how she would zap the cats' canned food in the microwave and divide their dishes in two with wet and dry food.
her old check books. We got to fill them out. I'm sure that's how I learned how.
hiding the purple pillow case from you and Justin. She always gave it to me.
Playing scrabble.
ReplyDeleteThe comics cut from the newspaper she had on the fridge. One was of a man telling his wife on the phone that he fixed the door from dragging on the rug. A saw was in his hand and a good foot had been sawed off the bottom of the door. In another one a woman was talking on the phone with a gun in her hand, after obviously having shot her husband. I don't remember the punchline but it always disturbed me.
The candy jars (which I'm sure we all robbed, I know I did) and making goodie bags before we left.
Her reading Oh the Places You'll Go, Cat in the Hat, The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, a book about losing a ball I can't remember the name of.