I don't have too many pictures of my grandkids baring their teeth at me!
This is David, grandson number one, taken a dozen years ago.
I am very proud of him.
Gratitude #83 - Sweet Biddies!
11 years ago
Friday, July 17, 2009
extraction
I went to the dentist this morning.
Nice new building, and a big one. I’d been there before and knew that all of their xray equipment was the latest digital (latest when it was installed at least). My regular dentist works out of an old house and walks to work.
I had called ahead and was told the charge for extracting a tooth would be about $250, so I made sure I had that much in my checking account.
When I first got there they did a digital xray, just to make sure: “No extra charge.”
I get to stand on this pad, put my chin on a plastic rest, and hold a plastic knob in my mouth, as ridiculous to do as to describe. The operator steps around the corner and with her remote starts the project. Big hunks of metal swiveled around my head, and in about 10 seconds she was back to say “Thank You.”
Back in the reception room I waited another 30 or 40 minutes, then I was taken into the inner sanctum.
The dentist came in and looked at the x-rays, talked to me a bit and said it should be an easy extraction, and began. A “pinch” here and a “pinch” there and I was numb on this reclining chair with a big light into my eyes and arm rests that allowed a LOT of squeezing at times.
It did not go easy, and he worked hard. It took him longer than he expected, but it was eventually done. He shook my hand and disappeared. His side kick gave me instructions on what to do, gave me a prescription for a narcotic pain killer, and an envelope of “stuff.” “Call us at those numbers if there is any problem.”
He stuffed my mouth with packing of various sorts and sent me to the pay desk. The nice lady figured a bit and brought me out the bill. There was a sizable discount for paying on the spot and the final bill was $159. I could have hugged her! I said “thank you” through all of the packing.
When I got home I sat in my leather chair and it was cold in the house. Outside it was heading for 97, but I was so cold I put on a long sleeved shirt. Miriam took my temperature: 101. Hmm.
By then it was lunch time so we had thick Potato soup left from a couple days ago, saved just for this occasion. I reminded Miriam that when the cook is on a diet every one is on a diet, so she got to eat what I wanted to eat. She laughed and ate.
Later the pain was annoying at the least, so I took a couple of Ibuprofen, and before too long I began to sweat. My fever was gone and now I am at a “normal” temp. Now the room is warm!
And I felt pretty good, and HUNGRY. I had Miriam make me some strawberry jello for later.
Of course there is a hole where that tooth used to be. I guess I’ll go ahead and just fill it with money, but not for a bit.
Nice new building, and a big one. I’d been there before and knew that all of their xray equipment was the latest digital (latest when it was installed at least). My regular dentist works out of an old house and walks to work.
I had called ahead and was told the charge for extracting a tooth would be about $250, so I made sure I had that much in my checking account.
When I first got there they did a digital xray, just to make sure: “No extra charge.”
I get to stand on this pad, put my chin on a plastic rest, and hold a plastic knob in my mouth, as ridiculous to do as to describe. The operator steps around the corner and with her remote starts the project. Big hunks of metal swiveled around my head, and in about 10 seconds she was back to say “Thank You.”
Back in the reception room I waited another 30 or 40 minutes, then I was taken into the inner sanctum.
The dentist came in and looked at the x-rays, talked to me a bit and said it should be an easy extraction, and began. A “pinch” here and a “pinch” there and I was numb on this reclining chair with a big light into my eyes and arm rests that allowed a LOT of squeezing at times.
It did not go easy, and he worked hard. It took him longer than he expected, but it was eventually done. He shook my hand and disappeared. His side kick gave me instructions on what to do, gave me a prescription for a narcotic pain killer, and an envelope of “stuff.” “Call us at those numbers if there is any problem.”
He stuffed my mouth with packing of various sorts and sent me to the pay desk. The nice lady figured a bit and brought me out the bill. There was a sizable discount for paying on the spot and the final bill was $159. I could have hugged her! I said “thank you” through all of the packing.
When I got home I sat in my leather chair and it was cold in the house. Outside it was heading for 97, but I was so cold I put on a long sleeved shirt. Miriam took my temperature: 101. Hmm.
By then it was lunch time so we had thick Potato soup left from a couple days ago, saved just for this occasion. I reminded Miriam that when the cook is on a diet every one is on a diet, so she got to eat what I wanted to eat. She laughed and ate.
Later the pain was annoying at the least, so I took a couple of Ibuprofen, and before too long I began to sweat. My fever was gone and now I am at a “normal” temp. Now the room is warm!
And I felt pretty good, and HUNGRY. I had Miriam make me some strawberry jello for later.
Of course there is a hole where that tooth used to be. I guess I’ll go ahead and just fill it with money, but not for a bit.
grandma
I haven't run a baby picture in a long while! If I do, they are old pictures, since we have not had babies in our family for a long time
The baby is Cole, Emily's half brother.
We visited Cole and his parents in North idaho, then brought Emily back with us to southern Idaho.
This was a while back. Cole is about 7 or 8 now!
Who could not like a face like that?
baggage
There was not a lot of other people baggage that came when “we” married our step dad. Most lived in California, and were not frequent visitors in Idaho, and we did not visit them too often.
Robert wasn't baggage, just a high strung 8 year old, when he came and spent a summer with us.
Robert was the son of the 2nd son and his wife Gladys, the one who My Fair Lady used as a voice model.
He was several years younger than me, so he was like another little brother. My half brother Ben was born about that time and was a just a baby.
The distinguishing thing about Robert was that one eye would follow where he was looking and the other would wonder around. It was highly disconcerting, and I am sure he was massively self conscience about it. Mom told me that this defect was surgically repaired, some time after I saw him last. He is normal sighted now.
Robert became an engineer, as I remember, likely a very good one.
Later in my life Dad and his next brother, looked up their long deserted daughters. Dad moved his daughter from California to Idaho and both brothers tried hard to make up for lost time and be good fathers, but too much time had gone by. They were not evil to each other, but they were never really close. This is one place where Grandma T’s efforts to protect herself and her precious family sewed some really bad seeds.
I have never met dads brother's daughter. She was about the same age as Dad’s daughter. My brother keeps track of at least some of them pretty well, after all, they are his cousins.
It is strange how things turn out.
Robert wasn't baggage, just a high strung 8 year old, when he came and spent a summer with us.
Robert was the son of the 2nd son and his wife Gladys, the one who My Fair Lady used as a voice model.
He was several years younger than me, so he was like another little brother. My half brother Ben was born about that time and was a just a baby.
The distinguishing thing about Robert was that one eye would follow where he was looking and the other would wonder around. It was highly disconcerting, and I am sure he was massively self conscience about it. Mom told me that this defect was surgically repaired, some time after I saw him last. He is normal sighted now.
Robert became an engineer, as I remember, likely a very good one.
Later in my life Dad and his next brother, looked up their long deserted daughters. Dad moved his daughter from California to Idaho and both brothers tried hard to make up for lost time and be good fathers, but too much time had gone by. They were not evil to each other, but they were never really close. This is one place where Grandma T’s efforts to protect herself and her precious family sewed some really bad seeds.
I have never met dads brother's daughter. She was about the same age as Dad’s daughter. My brother keeps track of at least some of them pretty well, after all, they are his cousins.
It is strange how things turn out.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
me at 45
Backpacking trip with Lora and Miriam and a bunch of young bucks. The bucks were carrying 90 to 100 pound packs (they lived and ate well). Mine was about 20, Miriam and Lora's about 12 or 15.
With that advantage we could keep up with them all day!
It was a 12 mile trip, each way.
my step grandmother
Grandma T was part of the package that came with my step father.
Someone said you do not mary a person you marry a family. Well she was part of that.
Grandma T was a short, somewhat stocky, but a powerful woman. Even when they were adults her sons did not cross her.
She claimed lineage from Ben Franklin through a lot of people I did not know, and the Franklin story most likely was true.
My dad was the youngest of 4 boys. They were a very competitive bunch, making sure that no one got a bigger piece of pie, and so on.
When Dad was 12 his father went a way and never returned. I do not know if any one knows where he went, but I have never hears a scratch about it. Grandma T could easily have blocked any contact.
Two of the boys married very young, had babies with their young brides, then on grandma’s insistence they divorced and had NO contact with the two kids or the mothers until after Grandma T died, and she lived a LONG time.
As I thought about it, years ago, it seemed to some make sense that Grandpa T had hit the road. I am sure Grandma could be a difficult lady.
She did come stay with us a couple of months once, I think when my brother was born. She would get up quite early and go into the only bathroom we had, and stay there for a good hour or more. She would shower and dress and groom in the bathroom.
At 11, like all little boys, when I woke up I really really needed to pee, and NOW, but that was the only bathroom. It got pretty miserable sometimes.
Her 4 boys did pretty well. The oldest was a promotor, a wheeler dealer, but he was anchored by the most wonderful wife you could imagine. She was a grade school teacher and that kept him from going too far.
Once he called Dad and asked him to come where he was living and build a couple of houses. “Are we going.” I asked. “No, for all I know he might be talking about a couple of dog houses.” But years later dad and mom moved to Massachusetts from Idaho to work with uncle on one of his projects.
The next son owned a truck body shop in San Francisco. He made good money. His wife was the role model for the “My Fair Lady” mother-in-law: “who had a voice that could shatter glass.” Aunt was a good woman but she had that voice.
The third so was a golf pro early in his life. This was before TV and I imagine the whole thing was different then than now. He won a lot of tournaments, made a lot of money and spent it all, my dad said. He worked as a carpenter when I knew him.
Then there was step dad. He worked on the Alaska HIghway during WWII, he learned carpentry while he was in high school, he was a truck driver and owner, he ran a donut shop in New York City, he owned an airplane. He was a superb mechanic. He could be a bit discouraging, but he could be a good guy too.
Later, I’ll write about the bakery oven that Grandma T had tucked into her garage.
Someone said you do not mary a person you marry a family. Well she was part of that.
Grandma T was a short, somewhat stocky, but a powerful woman. Even when they were adults her sons did not cross her.
She claimed lineage from Ben Franklin through a lot of people I did not know, and the Franklin story most likely was true.
My dad was the youngest of 4 boys. They were a very competitive bunch, making sure that no one got a bigger piece of pie, and so on.
When Dad was 12 his father went a way and never returned. I do not know if any one knows where he went, but I have never hears a scratch about it. Grandma T could easily have blocked any contact.
Two of the boys married very young, had babies with their young brides, then on grandma’s insistence they divorced and had NO contact with the two kids or the mothers until after Grandma T died, and she lived a LONG time.
As I thought about it, years ago, it seemed to some make sense that Grandpa T had hit the road. I am sure Grandma could be a difficult lady.
She did come stay with us a couple of months once, I think when my brother was born. She would get up quite early and go into the only bathroom we had, and stay there for a good hour or more. She would shower and dress and groom in the bathroom.
At 11, like all little boys, when I woke up I really really needed to pee, and NOW, but that was the only bathroom. It got pretty miserable sometimes.
Her 4 boys did pretty well. The oldest was a promotor, a wheeler dealer, but he was anchored by the most wonderful wife you could imagine. She was a grade school teacher and that kept him from going too far.
Once he called Dad and asked him to come where he was living and build a couple of houses. “Are we going.” I asked. “No, for all I know he might be talking about a couple of dog houses.” But years later dad and mom moved to Massachusetts from Idaho to work with uncle on one of his projects.
The next son owned a truck body shop in San Francisco. He made good money. His wife was the role model for the “My Fair Lady” mother-in-law: “who had a voice that could shatter glass.” Aunt was a good woman but she had that voice.
The third so was a golf pro early in his life. This was before TV and I imagine the whole thing was different then than now. He won a lot of tournaments, made a lot of money and spent it all, my dad said. He worked as a carpenter when I knew him.
Then there was step dad. He worked on the Alaska HIghway during WWII, he learned carpentry while he was in high school, he was a truck driver and owner, he ran a donut shop in New York City, he owned an airplane. He was a superb mechanic. He could be a bit discouraging, but he could be a good guy too.
Later, I’ll write about the bakery oven that Grandma T had tucked into her garage.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
teeth and dentists
I broke another tooth the other day
This was an upper tooth and after I broke a corner off, the old filling fell out.
My teeth have been good. I was blessed with good hard teeth, but I the last few years the back ones have just been disintegrating. One went from workable to gum line in a bit over a day.
So I went to see my Dentist Friend Gary. Gary’s dad and I graduated together from high school, class of 1902, as I told Gary’s assistant. (OK it was ’55). Gary and I have been good friends for a long time.
He looked and made small talk and took pictures and talked waiting for the film. We arrived at a plan that I thought I could live with.
His office lady made appointments with two high tech dentists. The kind that works with a microscope and studies a big computer monitor, that kind. One was to take out an ailing tooth and the other one is doing root canal therapy, as Gary called it.
A bridge would be a good solution, but I built a house for what one of those would cost!
This morning I checked with them on the price and canceled the root project. It is a good idea, and I will pay later some how, but it was way over budget.
I will get one “extracted” as they say, and start learning how to gum my food! OK, not quite.
This was an upper tooth and after I broke a corner off, the old filling fell out.
My teeth have been good. I was blessed with good hard teeth, but I the last few years the back ones have just been disintegrating. One went from workable to gum line in a bit over a day.
So I went to see my Dentist Friend Gary. Gary’s dad and I graduated together from high school, class of 1902, as I told Gary’s assistant. (OK it was ’55). Gary and I have been good friends for a long time.
He looked and made small talk and took pictures and talked waiting for the film. We arrived at a plan that I thought I could live with.
His office lady made appointments with two high tech dentists. The kind that works with a microscope and studies a big computer monitor, that kind. One was to take out an ailing tooth and the other one is doing root canal therapy, as Gary called it.
A bridge would be a good solution, but I built a house for what one of those would cost!
This morning I checked with them on the price and canceled the root project. It is a good idea, and I will pay later some how, but it was way over budget.
I will get one “extracted” as they say, and start learning how to gum my food! OK, not quite.
Monday, July 13, 2009
saving boards
Boards too nice to use.
It is easy to talk about those fancy dishes that we are saving, but stay out of my wood shop!
My lumber bins overflow. Walnut, Oak, Alder, a bit of Mahogany and Beech, some Black Locust and Maple. Then out in the back lumber shed there is more.
Our budget is being squeezed and I have long wanted to have a good clothes drying rack for Miriam. She is willing to use one. So one day a while back we drove out to the collection of stores that might carry such things here in Idaho and found several.
The $10 one was not even junk. A better one was $30. But it wasn’t very good.
So we came home without one. I looked on line at the Lehman site (http://www.lehmans.com/). They specialize in non power using house devices, catering first to the Amish and then to the rest of us who are so inclined.
They have a good rack, I knew they would. Oak and “only” $80. Worth every penny, but pennies are short. They did give added information. The rungs were ¾ inch dowels, and the end pieces were ¾ by 1 ¼. That is enough information, from that I could make one.
Which brings us back to my lumber pile. I have some really nice oak boards in this pile, saving for something. But a while ago I got to thinking and realized that I am not going to be doing any more big projects, and that I really should figure a way to use some of those precious boards, and not save them so carefully!
So this morning I pulled a particularly nice piece of Northern Red Oak out of my stash. Straight grain about 8” wide. Perfect. So I cut it to size to make the drying rack.
We also need a shower curtain rod for the upstairs bathroom. In my stash I had this really nice piece of oak. I was saving it for something and yesterday I decided this was the time.
So, today I cut and machined the pieces for both projects. I finished and assembled the rack, but I got it wrong, it is a fairly complex piece of geometry, so I took it all apart and did it again.
Right now it is sitting on its side on my bench, almost finished. Very soon Miriam can use it for it’s intended purpose. And, she can use it inside or out, and I will save some more bucks.
Clothes dried outside smell so good.
It is easy to talk about those fancy dishes that we are saving, but stay out of my wood shop!
My lumber bins overflow. Walnut, Oak, Alder, a bit of Mahogany and Beech, some Black Locust and Maple. Then out in the back lumber shed there is more.
Our budget is being squeezed and I have long wanted to have a good clothes drying rack for Miriam. She is willing to use one. So one day a while back we drove out to the collection of stores that might carry such things here in Idaho and found several.
The $10 one was not even junk. A better one was $30. But it wasn’t very good.
So we came home without one. I looked on line at the Lehman site (http://www.lehmans.com/). They specialize in non power using house devices, catering first to the Amish and then to the rest of us who are so inclined.
They have a good rack, I knew they would. Oak and “only” $80. Worth every penny, but pennies are short. They did give added information. The rungs were ¾ inch dowels, and the end pieces were ¾ by 1 ¼. That is enough information, from that I could make one.
Which brings us back to my lumber pile. I have some really nice oak boards in this pile, saving for something. But a while ago I got to thinking and realized that I am not going to be doing any more big projects, and that I really should figure a way to use some of those precious boards, and not save them so carefully!
So this morning I pulled a particularly nice piece of Northern Red Oak out of my stash. Straight grain about 8” wide. Perfect. So I cut it to size to make the drying rack.
We also need a shower curtain rod for the upstairs bathroom. In my stash I had this really nice piece of oak. I was saving it for something and yesterday I decided this was the time.
So, today I cut and machined the pieces for both projects. I finished and assembled the rack, but I got it wrong, it is a fairly complex piece of geometry, so I took it all apart and did it again.
Right now it is sitting on its side on my bench, almost finished. Very soon Miriam can use it for it’s intended purpose. And, she can use it inside or out, and I will save some more bucks.
Clothes dried outside smell so good.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Jack
Once some one gave me a toy Jack-in-the-Box. I was three or so.
Not a fast food burger, but a little metal box that had little clown that would jump up. Most of them had a handle on the side. Push the "jack" into the box and close the lid, then turn the handle/crank and it would plink out a little tune and then at some point Jack would jump out very quickly.
Scare the dickens out of a kid!
Now days such a toy would be made in China of plastic, but this one was metal. I remember my mother telling me about it!
Any way one day I was playing with the box and I fell and it made a nasty cut on my head somewhere, and she said it bled a lot. I am sure I was fairly noisy about it all. With some effort she and father got the blood stopped. She was sure there was a scar under my hair some where. Maybe if I shaved my head we could find it!
My father was so angry with that toy that he threw the toy away.
Father was not fond of anything that hurt his family. When I was born, for a few days, my father would have nothing to do with me, because I had caused his sweetheart so much pain.
Grandma told me that story several times.
Not a fast food burger, but a little metal box that had little clown that would jump up. Most of them had a handle on the side. Push the "jack" into the box and close the lid, then turn the handle/crank and it would plink out a little tune and then at some point Jack would jump out very quickly.
Scare the dickens out of a kid!
Now days such a toy would be made in China of plastic, but this one was metal. I remember my mother telling me about it!
Any way one day I was playing with the box and I fell and it made a nasty cut on my head somewhere, and she said it bled a lot. I am sure I was fairly noisy about it all. With some effort she and father got the blood stopped. She was sure there was a scar under my hair some where. Maybe if I shaved my head we could find it!
My father was so angry with that toy that he threw the toy away.
Father was not fond of anything that hurt his family. When I was born, for a few days, my father would have nothing to do with me, because I had caused his sweetheart so much pain.
Grandma told me that story several times.
worth it
"Have I told you lately how much I enjoy your blog? Well, I do. I go there every day to read, remember and enjoy. I love the pictures and the words.
"THANK YOU!
"Oh! And I love you! ;)"
That from a daughter this weekend. That is all of the encouragement I need to keep writing.
I love you too.
"THANK YOU!
"Oh! And I love you! ;)"
That from a daughter this weekend. That is all of the encouragement I need to keep writing.
I love you too.
the three of us
Mom was about 27 here. It was a couple of years before she met my step father.
I know those years were lonely for her, but I remember them as being very happy years.
She was well disciplined and provided for my sister and i the best she could.
I don't remember thinking I was deprived of anything.
my mom
My mom was a happy positive woman. Rarely did I know her other wise.
It was not that she did not have any grief in her life, She seems to have had her share or more.
She married at 18 a few weeks after she graduated from high school. I was born when she was 21. I the next 4 years she delivered 3 more babies. The first two died soon after birth. Both deaths were from causes that would be routinely solved today.
Then her husband, my father was killed. Suddenly, without any warning.
She carried her grief deep in herself, rarely showing that emotion.
When I was 8 and she 29 she married my step father. I remember him teasing her until she cried in desperation. I remember her crying a good bit. When dad went on the road as a trucker, it brought a great deal of peace to the family, as I remember.
My step dad had a shadowy history. He impregnated a girl when they were both very young, they were briefly married, but his mother did not approve and as I remember, pretty much forced a divorce.
He lived for a while in New York City. Later in life I heard some suggestion of a marriage there, but I am not sure. He was not an evil man, in many ways he was a good husband for her, but he pushed her to tears way to often, that was totally unnecessary.
After he married mom he was drafted into the army, it was the very end of WWII, and he came home one leave with a friend’s wife (she had the car they drove). Probably a perfectly innocent arrangement, but I know mom grieved.
Mom was bright and wanted to go to college. She went one semester, got good grades and loved it, then my Father decided to relocate to a non college town. In the 6 years of their marriage they lived in several different towns in Idaho and in several houses in most of those towns. She never got back to a "regular" college.
But through it all, she kept a smile on her face and a positive outlook. I don’t know if she talked to any one about anything, but my sense is that she did not, that she kept her sad emotions to herself. She was befriended by a city councilman who helped her with some legal issues. She had good mentors, but none were close emotionally.
She studied accounting by correspondence school. She was diligent and well suited to the work. When she finished and dad closed his trucking business, Mom went to work for the State of Idaho at the Health Department, in charge of payroll. When she retired she got a certificate of appreciation from her boss.
She always said that when she retired she was going to go to college. She wanted to learn and to stretch her mind, but within a year of her retirement she came down with cancer and it took her. She was just 65. I have outlived both of my parents.
I grieve her loss. She did get to go to our oldest daughters wedding, but she did not live to see grandchildren. She wanted so much to live to see her grandchildren married and have children. She loved her granddaughters (there were 6 between my brother and I).
It was not to be.
When I talk to my grandkids sometimes I say: “You would have loved my mom so much.” She would have been such a good great grandmother. It did not happen.
She has been gone a long long time now. Yet I still miss her cheerfulness in spite of what was going on. I miss her infectious smile. I miss her good cooking!
People who knew her (that number is thinning rapidly) agree, she was a great lady. That certificate from her boss at work was the only external validation that I remember.
We lived much of my life in the same town and I spent a lot of time with her. In her last half year, after it was discovered that her body was full of cancer, we spent a great deal of time together.
It was good. I am glad. And I still miss her.
It was not that she did not have any grief in her life, She seems to have had her share or more.
She married at 18 a few weeks after she graduated from high school. I was born when she was 21. I the next 4 years she delivered 3 more babies. The first two died soon after birth. Both deaths were from causes that would be routinely solved today.
Then her husband, my father was killed. Suddenly, without any warning.
She carried her grief deep in herself, rarely showing that emotion.
When I was 8 and she 29 she married my step father. I remember him teasing her until she cried in desperation. I remember her crying a good bit. When dad went on the road as a trucker, it brought a great deal of peace to the family, as I remember.
My step dad had a shadowy history. He impregnated a girl when they were both very young, they were briefly married, but his mother did not approve and as I remember, pretty much forced a divorce.
He lived for a while in New York City. Later in life I heard some suggestion of a marriage there, but I am not sure. He was not an evil man, in many ways he was a good husband for her, but he pushed her to tears way to often, that was totally unnecessary.
After he married mom he was drafted into the army, it was the very end of WWII, and he came home one leave with a friend’s wife (she had the car they drove). Probably a perfectly innocent arrangement, but I know mom grieved.
Mom was bright and wanted to go to college. She went one semester, got good grades and loved it, then my Father decided to relocate to a non college town. In the 6 years of their marriage they lived in several different towns in Idaho and in several houses in most of those towns. She never got back to a "regular" college.
But through it all, she kept a smile on her face and a positive outlook. I don’t know if she talked to any one about anything, but my sense is that she did not, that she kept her sad emotions to herself. She was befriended by a city councilman who helped her with some legal issues. She had good mentors, but none were close emotionally.
She studied accounting by correspondence school. She was diligent and well suited to the work. When she finished and dad closed his trucking business, Mom went to work for the State of Idaho at the Health Department, in charge of payroll. When she retired she got a certificate of appreciation from her boss.
She always said that when she retired she was going to go to college. She wanted to learn and to stretch her mind, but within a year of her retirement she came down with cancer and it took her. She was just 65. I have outlived both of my parents.
I grieve her loss. She did get to go to our oldest daughters wedding, but she did not live to see grandchildren. She wanted so much to live to see her grandchildren married and have children. She loved her granddaughters (there were 6 between my brother and I).
It was not to be.
When I talk to my grandkids sometimes I say: “You would have loved my mom so much.” She would have been such a good great grandmother. It did not happen.
She has been gone a long long time now. Yet I still miss her cheerfulness in spite of what was going on. I miss her infectious smile. I miss her good cooking!
People who knew her (that number is thinning rapidly) agree, she was a great lady. That certificate from her boss at work was the only external validation that I remember.
We lived much of my life in the same town and I spent a lot of time with her. In her last half year, after it was discovered that her body was full of cancer, we spent a great deal of time together.
It was good. I am glad. And I still miss her.
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