Happy Birthday, Dear Grandma

Yesterday would have been my Grandma’s birthday, my dad’s mom. She probably thought she didn’t really do anything all that great, but so many of my memories are with her, because I spent so much time with her. I used to go there every day after school. On Tuesdays we went to get groceries, and because I was spoiled, I got to have whatever I wanted. We used to make microwave popcorn and take the next 3 days to slowly eat it out of the bag. We watched tv together, she complained about my nasty watermelon gum (which she never stopped buying for me, even though it smelled gross), and couldn’t understand how I could drink pickle juice. She always had gum in her cabinet, right in front of the glasses. She stored her bags of chips in the oven, and her store-bought eclairs and cupcakes in the fridge. At her house, where I went to visit my dad every Sunday, there were 5 “toys” – a straight ladder that I loved to lay on the grass and run through like an obstacle course, old wooden stilts, an old rusty pogo stick, a doll that is now probably 50 years old, and a puzzle. And I had the best time at her house with those things! Oh, there were also 2 trees that I would climb, and she would say, “don’t fall and break yourself.” And I’d ride my bike down the hill her house is on, no hands, and she’d say, “be careful, don’t break yourself.” She bought me a new sprinkler every summer, and a sled for her tiny (as in 5 feet long) hill by her house. She came to all my birthdays, Christmasses, you name it, she was there. When she fell and hurt her hip, I went to visit her in the hospital, and she was so surprised, since I was the only person who had done so. It was no big deal to me, I just walked over to the hospital one day after school. We used to laugh and laugh at the silliest stuff, while she sat in “her chair.” That’s where she always was. She was always in a chair, either her “inside chair,” or her “outside chair.” We loved to sit out on the porch watching just about nothing happen on her quiet street. On Sundays, the preacher for the church at the top of her street would walk up and down a couple times and she would yell, “Hi, Preach!” And he would say back, “Hi, god bless.” Sometimes, he would stop and talk, if it wasn’t a Sunday. And, I don’t feel bad for not getting this posted yesterday – I was out having a GREAT time, and she wouldn’t have wanted it any differently. “Don’t sit here talking to dear Gram, go and have fun with your friends!” So, happy birthday to my Grandma, you are missed very much, but I am SO glad to have these memories.

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