Some Days

Some days, like today, I miss my Grandma extra. These are the books she used to read to us:


I often wonder what my relationship with my Grams would be like now if she was still alive. I was in 6th grade when she died, and, well, I'm a little different now. She would HATE my tattoos and piercings. I bet she would have strongly disapproved of me going to art school, and maybe even more so of me dropping out. She would have been so psyched about me doing so many charity and service-oriented things, and about the non profits I've worked for, fund raised for or given to. I know she would be proud of me pursuing the things that were heavy on my heart, even if she disagreed with them.

My Grams wouldn't have understood me moving to San Francisco or Boston, but she would have been there to pick me up at the airport when I moved back to Seattle, and she would have baked me a killer goodbye cake when I moved away again. I know whole heartedly that at the root of her orneriness, she wanted the best for my siblings and I. I wonder though, what it would have been like to have her in my life as a young adult. Like when I had pink hair - would she have disowned me? Or when my family hit rough waters a few years ago - where would she have stood? She now has four more grand children and two great grand children. I wish that my little cousins could have experienced, well, her.

There are a few things about my personality that I definitely get from my Grams. For one, I'm a reader and good with words. Not only can I spell, but I'm one hell of a Scrabble player. I'm not as good at doing the crosswords as she was, but I'm getting there. I'm good at puzzles, I think that has something to do with her too. Number one thing that gets me into trouble is not being able to ask for help. It's a good thing, sometimes. Thanks for that, Grams. That and the inability to give up, even when I should. My handwriting, my mom's handwriting and hers? Identical. I think I get my domestic traits from her, as well. I can sew, I'm crafty, and while I'm complimenting myself I'll throw it out there that I pride myself on my cooking. I know that she'd be proud of that more than anything else. Thank you, Grams, for being a part of my life but damn you for taking your fudge recipe to the grave.