On Tuesday, January 20 my grandma passed away. I've spent a lot of time this week thinking about her and remembering my childhood - growing up as her neighbor.
This photo was taken in November. She died one month short of 91 years.
For the past several years she lived in the nursing home in Goessel. I tried to visit on a regular basis and this photo is from a couple years ago:
She was surprised that my phone could take pictures and that we could see the image right after taking it! We took several - you can see the confusion and amusement on her face. :-)
My grandparents were a handsome couple back when they got married. He died twenty years ahead of her.
Growing up with your grandparents in your backyard is pretty special. It wouldn't work for everyone, but I think it was a privilege and I like that my boys are doing the same thing now with my parents. (This is an old photo, I think that's Axle lying in the grass.)
I have endless memories of playing in their house, around their house, eating with them, learning from them, being with our extended family and on and on. And then for three years I lived in that house with my own family - where the drawer by the back sink still smells like her liquid foundation. And the linen closet in the bathroom still smells like the fabric scraps and quilts that she stored there. And sometimes when I walk by the house, I'm flooded with the memory of hearing her playing piano and singing hymns in her living room.
At our Christmas gathering, Grandma sang every word of "Joy to the World" and "Silent Night" with the family.
Just a week or two ago the boys and I made new artwork for the walls in her room at Bethesda. She liked the idea of having a flower garden on her wall, especially since it was the middle of winter.
Grandma's memory wasn't good anymore, but she always knew who I was. She was always quick with a smile when we visited, even until two days before she died, and for that I am so grateful.
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