Dear Grandma,

March 7, 2008 at 10:44 pm (death, family, genealogy) (, , , )

I remember the dry, hot summers in Logan in front of the green house.  Devin  and I would play with the sprinklers on the sidewalks.  The water would evaporate almost instantly on the concrete and give off this smell that to this day still reminds me of visiting you and grandpa.

I remember the plastic dolls and lincoln logs that I would line up in rows on the lazy-susan on the dinner table.  Later I learned that my dad and all his siblings before him played with the very same toys.

I remember the hilarious contraption that grandpa built, with the standing iron frame with the inner-tube around it, that all the cousins used as a quasi-trampoline.  Devin would get so mad when I bounced him too high.  We were the youngest cousins, and I still can’t believe it is still in business.

I remember the marbles and books and comics and card games and peanut brittle that were involved in almost every family gathering, and wishing I was old enough to stay up late to play Pinochle.

I remember rocking in the armchair next to grandpa while he watched a baseball game, and the next moment hearing his loud snore.  You were in the kitchen making another batch of homemade bread.  It was the fluffiest bread I have ever had, and with butter it was absolute heaven.  That was my favorite thing about visiting.  I always got to eat grandma’s bread.

I remember squeaky cheese and tic-tacs and Nips.

I remember the Olay lotion you used to keep your hands soft.

I remember your reaction to my jazz cd.  You loved Ella Fitzgerald when she sang the old standards, but didn’t like the mumbo-jumbo of the scat songs.

You gave me a wonderful dad, taught me an old gal can change, helped me learn Screwie Louie, and tried to get me to eat beets.  But most of all, you were simply my grandma.

I love you and I will miss you.

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