It happened simply enough...scrolling through Instagram, paying little attention to what I was looking at until all of a sudden I saw this photo my cousin posted...
See, she and her little family are living in Gran's house and I often wonder if she comes across things like this, but never ask. Gran was the master of note writing - to us, to others, and to herself - reminders of things inconsequential, yet written with care, with love. "Warm up in microwave." "Here are a couple stamps." "Outside water gage, put out in spring." I can't help but wonder what she was thinking when she wrote this last one...see, she died in February, so I can't help but assume she wrote this the fall before, and given how sure she had been for years that she was going to die (she was 99), I just wonder if she was writing this note to herself...or to us...something so simple, yet something she knew we would need reminder of...one more thing she could do for us, even if we didn't find it for five and a half years...
Some people are natural caretakers, they do little for themselves, always putting others first. Gran was that above all else. She cared for others like no one I've known since. There were always special treats, meals made with individual dietary needs, letters written anytime one of us was away, a special "pallet" on the floor, pies baked for friends, early morning card games...each one of us felt like her favorite, yet she never once played favorites. She set an example of how to care for others, of how to be a friend, of how to love...even when no one was giving her anything in return. She used the good china for Sunday dinners without any special reason. She made extra pie dough so we could roll out our own little pies or miniature cinnamon rolls. No matter what else was going on, no matter how much else she had going on, no matter what else needed to be done...if someone needed a little extra care, she was there to make them feel special.
Tonight as I looked at that photo and read her words, I thought of the quote at the top of this site "We write to taste life twice..." Tonight it was her writing that allowed me to taste life twice...of days gone by....of memories and moments long since passed...and, as often seems the case when something of hers turns up...I cried. I missed her, and I cried. I wish to love as she did. I pray that my selfishness will someday give way to at least some version of her selflessness. That those in my life will know that kind of love and find ways to pass it on themselves. It's funny what a simple little reminder left on a sticky note can do...
See, she and her little family are living in Gran's house and I often wonder if she comes across things like this, but never ask. Gran was the master of note writing - to us, to others, and to herself - reminders of things inconsequential, yet written with care, with love. "Warm up in microwave." "Here are a couple stamps." "Outside water gage, put out in spring." I can't help but wonder what she was thinking when she wrote this last one...see, she died in February, so I can't help but assume she wrote this the fall before, and given how sure she had been for years that she was going to die (she was 99), I just wonder if she was writing this note to herself...or to us...something so simple, yet something she knew we would need reminder of...one more thing she could do for us, even if we didn't find it for five and a half years...
Some people are natural caretakers, they do little for themselves, always putting others first. Gran was that above all else. She cared for others like no one I've known since. There were always special treats, meals made with individual dietary needs, letters written anytime one of us was away, a special "pallet" on the floor, pies baked for friends, early morning card games...each one of us felt like her favorite, yet she never once played favorites. She set an example of how to care for others, of how to be a friend, of how to love...even when no one was giving her anything in return. She used the good china for Sunday dinners without any special reason. She made extra pie dough so we could roll out our own little pies or miniature cinnamon rolls. No matter what else was going on, no matter how much else she had going on, no matter what else needed to be done...if someone needed a little extra care, she was there to make them feel special.
Tonight as I looked at that photo and read her words, I thought of the quote at the top of this site "We write to taste life twice..." Tonight it was her writing that allowed me to taste life twice...of days gone by....of memories and moments long since passed...and, as often seems the case when something of hers turns up...I cried. I missed her, and I cried. I wish to love as she did. I pray that my selfishness will someday give way to at least some version of her selflessness. That those in my life will know that kind of love and find ways to pass it on themselves. It's funny what a simple little reminder left on a sticky note can do...
2 Comments
RSS Feed
