The mock orange tree. Sticky buns. Pickles. Edgar Cayce. Hockey cards. Crafts. Dolls. Endless catalogues. Peanut butter for the squirrels. Letters to the editor. The pheasant sofa. Cleaning the carpets. Toys. Countless humbugs. The hard, horse barn shaped purse. "You know, Sarah..." Taking her teeth out and hiding them in her bra. Dreamwhip. Diet soda. The clocks. Never throwing anything away. Noxema and Dove soap. Saving the potty for every grandchild. "Hai-waii." Never playing favourites. Always knowing what the must-have toy is. Climbing roses. Black-eyed susans. Ring toss. The never-used treadmill.
How hugable she was. Rinsing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Parcheesi. Cribbage. Squares. "Rolled oats." Cookies straight from the freezer. Pickles at dinner. Plastic tablecloths. Naked ladies shower enclosure. Not taking down Mom's folk art, even after the divorce.
Camping. The video camera. The pink deer sweatshirt. Dangly earrings. The church. The way they french-kissed at Dad's wedding. Cheese and apple salads. "Fluoride is bad for old people." The way she took care of Grandma Zach. The ceramic milk jug. Dallas. The silver mirror, brush and comb on her dresser. Orange doilies on the coffee table. The first satellite dish: "Don't touch that remote!" Mating pairs of cardinals attacking the front window. Hanging the dishtowels up high. Reusing the wash water. Composting. Recycling. The macrame owl. The post-funeral spread that wasn't her equal.
I miss you Nan.
This is beautiful, and it's clear how loving your Nan was. And funny too?
Posted by: ae | November 01, 2005 at 23:33