Thursday, May 27, 2004

Okay here goes:
My Tribute

My tribute, there is an old song by that title and the first line states "How can I say thanks for the things you have done for me."
That's kinda how I feel today. I am unsure that I will find the adequate words to tell you of my grandmother, my grama.
I've had some time to reflect on what could be said about her, the things she's done in her life, the things she's accomplished, and yet to us her grandchildren, the most important thing she did, was to be our grandma.
She loved us all without condition, she wrote letters when we were away, she always remembered us, our birthdays, she prayed for us daily.
Memories of her? She always made sure that her granddaughters got dolls for Christmas, usually matching ones. You can imagine our surprise the Christmas of 1992, when her three fully grown granddaughters opened presents to find that we all got Barbies. We all just kinda looked at each other our eyes wide, went one by one to grama to thank her. She gave us a sheepish look and explained, "I couldn't help it, my girls needed babies one more time."
Another time near Christmas, I offered to come over and help with the baking. Piece of cake I thought, going over and making a batch of cookies, then relaxing, having meddoch, and visiting. This was not her plan however, I didn't even get a chance to take off my jacket, before she handed me eight recipe cards and a bowl. I remember it took me six hours to get everything done, but at least she let me stop for lunch.
It was always her writing on the Christmas bags. Grandpa may have signed the Christmas cheques, but it was her writing in the letters and cards.
There are many things we will miss about her. The way she would speak German to you, like you understood, and you didn't have a clue. The way she played skipbo....she was pretty competitive. The way she played skipbo in German to improve my understanding. The way she would save everything, and I mean everything. I have found food colouring in her cupboards older than me. We recently found a bottle of salad dressing that expired in 1989 in her pantry.
I will miss the quiet times the most. The times when we would talk about boys and moving away, and her life story, and what it was like to live when she was younger. What it was like to marry a boy five years her junior. What it was like for her to move in with his family after they married. What it was like to lose her baby girl. What it was like to care for us when we were younger, and what it was like to get old.
The day before she died, there were friends and family in her room. We sang the song " Heaven is a wonderful place." A few minute passed and she awoke to whisper " Heaven IS a wonderful place."
Although we mourn our loss, I can celebrate her new home, no more gout, no more arthritis, and beautiful new hands.

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