Memories of my grandma . . .

Tomorrow would be my grandma's birthday.  Or rather, if she were living, tomorrow is her birthday.  I will be going to the farm.  The place I grew up.   It is the second visit back since she passed.  Walking across the yard past her house.  Going over to visit grandpa at their house and she isn't physically there.   March 21, 1929.   Mae (Lindsay Ewing) Krogsgaard.  Born on the first day of spring.  Seems fitting I suppose.  Moving forward.   Remembering.

Some of you may have heard these words before.  They are the ones I spoke at her memorial.  And it seemed fitting to repeat them given the day.  They are my scattered thoughts in the days after she passed.

Tea parties – sometimes with special cups that she'd take out of the kitchen china cabinet.

Making shortbread.

Sleepovers.

Playing dress up with all the fun clothes in the end bedroom closet.

Canned cherries and canned peaches for dessert – she often let us pick which one we wanted.

Doing dishes together when I could hardly reach into the sink – she'd get a stack stool and lay a towel across the sink counter edge to help keep me dry – I still do this and every time I do I think of grandma.  And she'd be humming the whole time that we stood there washing and drying the dishes.

Grandma taught me how to crochet

She helped teach me how to make and ice a cake – always a much sought after item at bake sales and auctions.

I remember putting rollers in grandma's hair and laughing our faces off while I did.

There were countless times I left school early because I was sick and I'd spend the day on grandma's couch watching daytime TV.  Sorry grandpa about all the carpets I made you clean.

Grandma hated frogs.  Actually, I think hate is a pretty mild word for how she felt about frogs.  And yet, she's got the biggest collection of them this side of the amazon thanks to her kids and grand-kids.

Grandma was always calm, compassionate, hospitable, gentle, smart – she could easily whoop your butt at scrabble – she'd always get the triple word score with a Q or and X – and you could bet that she'd win at checkers too (but I think she cheated at checkers) she claims she never did.

Grandma had a quick wit – one that sticks with me is, and I don't even remember the conversation, but the word stupid came up and she turned to me and said, “stupid, you should see so and so, they're really bent over.”  It took a few minutes.

Grandma had an easy laugh.

I never, ever heard her speak ill of anyone.

She was so incredibly patient.

I wondered often if she had eyes in the back of her head, because we didn't get away with too much.

One on one in grandma's presence I felt like I was the most special kid on the planet.

She was fiercely protective.  When Levi was in the hospital she'd try so hard to not show worry or fear when the phone would ring, but she was also very honest.

If you played last bat with her – she always won – every time.

Grandma was always well put together, her hair, makeup, hose, heels, everything in place – unless she was in the garden.  And her garden was always something to behold.

Grandma had such strength of character.  She was tough, but not hard.  She did not have an easy life.  She lost her mom and her dad and still remained so faithful a servant.

She walked the walk – her actions spoke more than any words she ever used.  I am so grateful and blessed that God saw fit to let me have her as my grandma, a visible example of what it means to love.  Love is an action word and she demonstrated love well.

December 25 is a day that people around the world hold dear for many different reasons.  I think grandma was blessed with the ultimate gift on that day.  She got to go home.  To peace and rest and joy.  God gave us the gift of knowing that we're going to see her again someday.

I thought about editing my words, but changed my mind.  My thoughts are the same today as they were two months ago.  I was blessed with a wonderful grandma.