Memorial to our Grandma

When my brother and I sat down to write this memorial, we realized that our memories of Grandma are not so much formed around any specific story or event, but rather are about the rituals and environment she provided us.

For us, Grandma was a gardener. Her home was filled with amazing plants. All spring and summer long she would be out in her yard tending to her one of her brightly colored gardens. Every year its seems she was adding something new to that yard. Maybe a fruit tree one year, or a beautifully arranged flower bed another, or maybe a new addition to her amazing vegetable garden that was already full of cucumbers, broccoli, squashes and tomatoes. She had a towering bean pole, and an asparagus patch for early springtime eating. Of course we’ll never forget the raspberry patch in the back that we pilfered from while supposedly helping her with the harvest.

In the kitchen, she transformed the food from her backyard into delicious multi course meals. Having grown up through the great depression, she cared about self reliance, and always having good food on the table. She would have multiple dishes in the oven, and multiple dishes on the stove, and some kind of fruit cobbler, or a pie she made from her own berries. And then after dinner we would eat dessert while playing games and drinking half cups of coffee from the tiniest of china cups. Frequently we played Scrabble. Grandma played fair but always won, she didn’t go easy on us and got tremendous joy from trouncing us game after game.

Grandma was extremely deliberate in everything she did. From her, we learned that it’s not about the words we speak but what you do and how you live that really counts. She was fiercely independent, living on her own even at the age of 92. And when finally she was unable to care for herself as she always had before, Grandma said her final goodbyes and that was that. She died exactly how she lived: on her own terms.

Grandma, we will keep your memory alive by remembering your patience and quiet confidence. Through your actions you taught us that if we find that the season’s harvest isn’t as bountiful as we hoped, you taught us not to dispair, keep strong and start preparing for next year’s garden.

Farewell Grandma, We love you