Memories

For much of my life, the woman that this little girl grew into was a constant in my life.

She was my Grandmother and August 10 would have been her 94th birthday.

When she died in 2006, I didn't cry much, I knew how badly she wanted to go home. That was such a comfort to me. I missed her, I still miss her but knowing that she was finally in her forever home, the place she had longed for lessened the grief.

A few weeks ago on Facebook, one of my cousins posted the simple words, "Don't worry, be happy." Those words unleashed memories of Grandma. One cousin mentioned that she remembered Grandma having a tape of that song in her big beige car. We mentioned her love of the TV show, The Golden Girls. She would laugh so hard at the antics of those old ladies. A laugh that she only had when she really tickled. An infectious laugh.

That Facebook post brought back a flood of memories for me.

I remembered being a little girl sitting on Grandma's front porch in the rocking chairs. She would sing a song about little birds. The song always changed but there was always a family of birds.

I remembered her love of quilting, sewing and crocheting--all things that many of her children and grandchildren wish we had learned when she tried to teach us. I think all of her grandchildren and many of her great-grandchildren have quilts or blankets made by Grandma.

She loved family holidays. She loved the whole process--the cooking, the decorating.

One Christmas, we all sat down at the table. There was turkey, dressing, homemade rolls--all the traditional foods. One by one everyone took a bite of the dressing and had the strangest expressions on their faces. Only after everyone had taken a bite did Grandma announce that she had tried oyster dressing! Now, in southern Arkansas, oyster dressing isn't exactly a delicacy. And this most definitely was not.

What I remember most about her, though, is in very real and important ways, she influenced my life. She was an encourager, a mentor. Throughout college, she wrote letters and called. When I moved 6 hours away to a school and town in which I knew no one, her calls and letters were even more precious. She was there when I was lonely and at a time when I felt like life was falling apart. She simply listened, assured me that somehow things would work out, and loved me.

She loved well and each of us, in our way, tried to love her well.

So, tomorrow, I'll hum Happy Birthday and think of Grandma. And I'll be forever thankful for her.