I’ve been thinking about my grandmother a lot lately, especially as I toss around ideas for the essay I will write for this year’s Listen To Your Mother show in Chicago. Memories of her come and go, and sometimes she hangs around in my brain for an extended period of time. I don’t mind at all; in fact, I rather enjoy it. My Grandma was a huge presence in my young life. We visited her house all the time, and she spoiled her grandkids like crazy. She was one of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever met in my life. I’m often in awe of the fact that she died when I was only ten years old but has continued to affect my life in so many ways.
Since she’s been on my mind, it didn’t surprise me at all that, when I was looking for a picture of my boys earlier today, I came across this, a picture I haven’t seen in ages.
I noticed so many things at first glance. The glasses, for one thing. How awesome are those?
I see my mom in my Grandma’s face so much more than I ever have before. I see my younger son, J, in my face.
My side curls. WHAT???
The picture was taken in October of 1973, when I was nearly five, and it’s a perfect representation of the love that was between us. I still miss her after all these years, and when I catch myself wondering what she would think about the person I am today, I laugh because I already know.