I got to spend the weekend with my grandmother.
She's a ticket. She still walks fairly well. She cooks, she does dishes. And she's a fierce crocheter.
Is that a word?
She loves to crochet and has made many, many afghans. I think we all have one like this.
She'll be 94 in September. We share the same birthday - isn't that the coolest thing ever? I love having the same birthday as my grandmother.
I wandered around her house looking for things that made me think of my childhood. We spent a lot of time at her house when I was young. When I think of her house, I think of Twinkies and Table Talk pies. Bingo and card games. Swimming in the pool and family picnics. I think of baseball games and football games, turkey and stuffing, Christmas Eve and Easter Sunday. But most of all, I think of the love.
The picture above is my grandparent's wedding day. I love listening to her tell stories of when they were younger. There are stories about moonshine and sheriffs and dancing. About family feuds and scandals and nicknames, like Chewy and Chickie and Cookie.
Really. I'm not making this stuff up.This weekend happened last minute. K. was at the beach with my dad and uncle, my niece M. and my sister. And the Man and J. went fishing and working so I was going to be home by myself. Well, my mother-in-law was home, too, but she keeps busy. Extremely busy. Believe me, it would have been like being alone.
I decided to visit my grandmother. I love spur of the moment visits. We didn't do much, just hung out and talked and looked at old photos. Like the one above, of my great-grandmother and my great-grandfather.
Eating breakfast this morning, I saw her silhouette on the wall behind the table. It was a perfect silhouette of her.
I love this picture.
But I love the next picture even more.
Nan and me.
There's a lot of love in these hands. And these hearts.
I love you, Nan.