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farewell to my grandmother
Jan. 2nd, 2012 08:48 pmHave just been told that my grandmother has passed away. She had undergone surgery for a broken hip a few days ago, and complications began to creep in, as is not surprising for a 91-year old lady. She died peacefully, with some family members with her when she went.
I remember visiting her in the tiny Missouri town along the Mississippi where our family has been since their arrival in the country from Germany several generations back. Catching fireflies in her backyard. Crawdad fishing with a string and a piece of chicken liver from a packet of butcher's white paper. Eating Oberle Dog on crackers. Making ewww faces at my dad's love of liver dumplings. Reading away the hot summer days in her cool, dim basement, on the old orange and brown sofa with the springs that stuck you if you turned the wrong way. The books all smelled musty but they were great - a wild assortment of teenage romances, science fiction, children's books - a rummage sale of reading material. We'd sometimes walk to the library, where she'd wait patiently for me to make my selections. Sometimes there'd be a double-dipped chocolate cone from the ice cream shop. It was like being in a little oasis, a bubble of summertime that seemed like it lasted forever.
She was my last living grandparent. I don't feel sad, exactly - we had inklings that this was very likely so I've had time to brace up - but I feel a little unmoored. Well, no...there's the sadness.
I remember visiting her in the tiny Missouri town along the Mississippi where our family has been since their arrival in the country from Germany several generations back. Catching fireflies in her backyard. Crawdad fishing with a string and a piece of chicken liver from a packet of butcher's white paper. Eating Oberle Dog on crackers. Making ewww faces at my dad's love of liver dumplings. Reading away the hot summer days in her cool, dim basement, on the old orange and brown sofa with the springs that stuck you if you turned the wrong way. The books all smelled musty but they were great - a wild assortment of teenage romances, science fiction, children's books - a rummage sale of reading material. We'd sometimes walk to the library, where she'd wait patiently for me to make my selections. Sometimes there'd be a double-dipped chocolate cone from the ice cream shop. It was like being in a little oasis, a bubble of summertime that seemed like it lasted forever.
She was my last living grandparent. I don't feel sad, exactly - we had inklings that this was very likely so I've had time to brace up - but I feel a little unmoored. Well, no...there's the sadness.
