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Sunday, May 13, 2012

Happy Mother's Day!

Recently, I was chatting with another mom friend of mine and she brought this blog post up.  "It's the perfect Mother's Day post," she told me, "I forward it to my friends regularly.  It makes me cry every time I read it."

I think she is right.

In the midst of our insane busy-ness, we need the reminder that only my Great Grandma and her sister can give us.  I needed to be reminded of it once again...

My great grandma, who is ninety, is dying. Her heart has weakened, hospice has been called in and someone sits with her all hours of the day and night.

My mom, my sister, my two year old niece and I went to see her Sunday afternoon. Honestly, I do not recall a time only the four of us have done anything together - except maybe sat in the hospital when my niece was born - and we had a good time out and about today. The January sun shone brightly and cheered our travel. We giggled and laughed and drank coffee. My niece and I made funny faces and skipped across the parking lot together, her in her princess shoes, glittery skirt and fancy pink beads.

My great grandma always scared me as a child. She is tall. And wore heels. She spoke loudly and I could never tell her and her sister - who was always with her - apart. I thought they were twins. I would go to hug my great grandma, get my aunt, they would look all the long way down at me, exclaim "oh my lands", pat my back roughly and off I'd go....scared to death being the timid girl I was (am).

Growing up, I never thought much of her.

Sometime after my husband and I married and settled here, she began to show up at the house. She always came bearing chocolate of all sorts (whatever holiday had just passed, that was the chocolate she brought. She always informed me of the great price.). She brought me tablecloths that I loved but was afraid to use. Baking dishes. Kitchen towels. Balls for the boys to play with or coloring books and crayons.

Then she would sit at my table, look at the chaos around us, smile a bit, and tell me of when she lived on a farm.

I had never known this.

And in her visits, she became very dear to me.

And life being what it is, I never made it out to see her at her apartment.

Until today.

My Aunt (her daughter) was there and I have always liked my Aunt B. She is stylish and sweet and kind and I have always admired her. In a chair, bundled in a white blanket someone had painstakingly made, was a shell of the woman who had visited me.

My great grandma.

To read the rest of this story, Click HERE


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