|My grandparents, young and in love.|
I said, "OK," and she laughed because she knew she was asking the impossible.
|my grandma at 17|
I remember her as my grandma that picked herself up after young widowhood knocked her flat. She moved to a different state and had a beautiful house built and also built a fulfilling and full life for herself.
I remember her as the grandma that took me to Leatherby's for ice cream and to movies and roller skating and to Disneyland.
I remember her as the grandma who I tried to keep up with when the gates at Disneyland opened. She grabbed my hand on one side and Marianne's on the other side and ran toward Star Tours. She was fast.
I remember her as the most fun person to shop with. Ever. (Also, I struggled to keep up with her shopping.)
I remember her visiting us and bringing treats and games and all of her time. She got up with us at 4:00 a.m. on Christmas morning and played a game with us while my parents slept. (It was one of the gifts she was planning to give us for Christmas.)
I remember her as the hardest working and most generous person I know. I remember her as being a stylish and classy lady with an eye for beauty.
I remember her as being by my side the first time I went to the temple. I remember her support and love at every low and high of my life.
And I also want to remember her as she is now. Even though she is not able to do a lot of things she would like to do, she is still my grandma. She still loves me and I still love her and I want to be like her although I'm neither as beautiful, athletic or capable.
She told me the flowers she was wanting to have the family plant in her yard on Memorial Day. She wants white and red petunias and blue lobelia. They are the exact same flowers and colors as the flowers in my yard.
It's a start to becoming like her and I'll take what I can get.