My Grandmother

You remember my grandmother?

She’s nearly 91 years old.  That’s old when you stop to think about it.

At the moment, she is not doing well.  We’ve been told it will be a matter of a day or so, maybe hours…

I have to say, I will miss her.

I have been flooded with memories of my childhood out at her place….  cherry ice cream on cones, not in bowls;  irises, snapdragons, 4 o’clocks, pecan trees, plants in general; her sewing machine and all that material;  the rattling of the pressure cooker on the stove;  sleeping in her front room with the windows open; watching WWF;  sweet, homemade icing smeared between two graham crackers; being outdoors, always being outdoors….

I am confident she will soon be in heaven,  hopefully alongside her mother, and next to her son, my father.  I imagine the three of them reunited…and happy.

She will be whole, complete and no longer forgetful, or sad and lonely, or bitter and  mean, or frail, tired and hurting.  She will be peaceful, strong, and a little bit kooky and charming again.  Maybe she’ll even get to work her hands in the dirt and gardens of heaven.

That brings me hope and comfort. 

I will miss her.




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