Grandma B.

Yesterday, as I drove through the Target parking lot, I patiently waited for a little white car with 2 very little and very old ladies in it to drive by so I could turn. The car was, of course, going very slowly. As they passed I happened to notice a hand-made afghan very carefully laid out across the top of the back seat, just as it would be on a couch. It made me smile. Don't you just love the little ways of little old people?

It made me remember my grandma on my dad's side. She died while I was in college, so it's been awhile. My grandma made lots of afghans. She always had lots of afghans at her house. I remember there being afghans on her couches, chairs and on the beds. A childhood memory I have is of her afghans in our home that she had made for us. We snuggled up with them as we watched TV, read books and took naps. For most of my growing up years we lived pretty far away from Grandma. I imagine that she loved giving us afghans to wrap our little bodies up in that she had carefully croqueted herself while we were so far away.

I have always looked up to my grandma. She had a hard life, as many did in that generation through the Depression. Grandma's own mother died when she was a child. Then her father married a woman who didn't want to raise her. So Grandma went to live with her grandmother, who was a mean woman. She and my grandpa eloped because Grandma's grandmother disliked men and couldn't see why she would want to marry one. Then she lost her 1st two babies to SIDS.

I always loved visiting Grandma's house. I remember the smell, her beautiful doll collection that I loved to look at, the great climbing tree in the backyard where we could find bats at night, playing Frogger in her basement on the old Atari game system, and of course, the afghans. She lived in a very small town. I loved walking to the store, bank, and post office. Best of all was the little candy booth down the street where we would spend more money than we should have eating more candy than my mom would ever know about (I guess she does now! Sorry, Mom!). I remember Grandma's chili, pecan tarts, and fudge (yummy). I remember taking Grandpa's boat out on the lake one day; and as my dad tried to get the boat into shore he slipped and fell in the lake. My grandma laughed so hard we thought she'd die that very minute! Dad said it was worth the slip and getting wet just to see Grandma laugh like that.

Oh, I miss Grandma. Why is it that we don't have longer to enjoy our grandparents when we're at an age that we can more fully appreciate them? There is just something about childhood summers at Grandma's house that's so perfect. I wish I could remember a little more and a little better.