My Grandmother


Let me tell you about my grandmother.  Picture a petite, five foot tall woman with tiny, size five feet.  Imagine short gray hair and sky blue eyes.  Can you see her walking fast, shuffling along much faster than a short woman should?  I can.  And her mind…it was sharp, so very smart.  That is the woman I lost in the wee hours of the morning.  This feisty, witty, loving woman.  She was my grandmother, and now there’s this hole in my heart.  I had my grandmother for 44 years…for that I’m grateful.

This past summer I posted about geraniums, my favorite flower.  I wrote a paragraph about grandmother and thought I’d post it again.  Thank you, grandmother, for passing along your love of flowers and for loving us they way you did.

Geraniums were a staple of my youth…well, at least a staple of my youth at my grandmother’s house.  Every spring, her concrete pots would suddenly sprout a set of matching red geraniums.  They became a symbol of my grandmother…along with her fruit-filled jello salad, scrumptious vegetables she grew in her own enormous garden, and her sparkling blue eyes.  Grandmother was smart, sometimes sharp-tongued, but always nothing more, nothing less than my loving grandmother.  She passed her love of geraniums on to me, and never has there been a summer season without their blossoms gracing my yard.



…Maybe it’s the geranium’s heartiness – a quality we all strive for, or maybe it’s their unique fragrance – different from so many others, which echoes my very being.  Whatever the reason, I adore them.   I will smile each time I see them, thinking of my grandmother, thinking of what she taught us, what she shared.  And I will smile as I remember.

6 responses »

  1. I am so sorry for your loss. I can relate to that memory as my grandmother always had them on her porch as well. Although I miss my grandmother, I am thankful for those memories.

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