It is 2:17. I just finished my last pack of Necco hearts, you know the ones you always get on Valentine’s Day. I was waiting to eat them until this moment—after the dreaded phone call came. You see, my Grandma Hall always used to buy us Necco hearts when we were kids.
I have been blessed with great grandparents. They always attended my school events and continue to be active in my life. That is why today is so hard. I keep trying to find the perfect words to write in this blog, but I know they’ll never come. Those of you who knew my grandma know the amazing lady she was. So here is what is bouncing around my head.
Memories:
The ER. My very first memory as a child includes my grandma. It is an event that she probably would have liked to forget—having to take my brother to the ER as a baby while she was baby-sitting us. It all turned out okay in the end so no worries.
Gravy and parsley. My grandma knew how to cook. She made the best gravy. One of my life goals is to learn to make gravy like my grandma. I loved stirring the roaster of gravy on Thanksgiving and being the taste-tester. Another one of my Thanksgiving duties was to decorate the turkey platter with parsley. She always commented on how nice it looked even though I was just putting green stuff around the bird. I’m sure if you look at all the turkey pictures we have stockpiled, you can see my handiwork.
Blueberry pie. My mouth waters just writing about it. You see, my grandma and I used to go pick the blueberries fresh from the woods of Northern Minnesota in order to make the pie. It was a job—taking the Cadillac in places they are probably not supposed to go, bending over to find the plants, swatting mosquitoes and deerflies, and avoiding ticks and poison ivy. Man the pie was so worth it though. The funny thing is that my grandma never really liked the pie. She did all of this year after year for us.
My grandma did more volunteer work than anyone I have ever met. She’s been recognized by governors, sworn into the 4-H Hall of Fame, and probably received more certificates and thank-yous than anyone in the state (or at least SW Iowa). She never did it for the glory or honor. It’s who she was. (Man, it’s getting hard to write in the past tense—“was” keeps making it more and more real.)
It’s been interesting to reflect back on her traits and realize I have some of them. I think my pioneering spirit comes from her. My grandma was adventurous. Case in point, she always wanted to go to the moon. If they would have taken regular citizens, she would have signed up in a second. She’s been all over the world, and I know she would have come visit me here in Africa if she could. Second, my stubborn will or as my grandpa always said, “it’s the Ingerswen in her” kept us both marching down the paths we thought we should take. Finally, my love of learning is something my grandma would love. She was always reading, always listening to things. She still has the original Time (or Newsweek) magazine for the moon landing. How cool is that!?!
When my grandparents reached the time when many of their friends relocated to the South during the harsh Iowa winters, my grandparents stayed. My grandma never wanted to miss our events. She wanted to be around the grandkids.
You see, even though I am in Africa and cannot go home, I am a fortunate one. I had a life filled with my Grandma Hall. I got to see her over Christmas, and I was able to say good-bye last Friday. Even though she couldn’t respond, my mom said she heard me. I will get to see my grandma again in heaven. That’s our home anyway. We won’t be there for our volunteer work or anything like that. It’s because we both believe in Jesus as our Messiah, God’s Son who saved us and makes it possible for us to spend eternity in the presence of God.
Well if you made it this far, I’m proud of you. I wrote this first and foremost for myself, my grandpa (who I love very much), and my family. Even though I am not there with you, I send you my love.
