Grandmas hold our tiny hands for just a little while, but our hearts forever. ~Author Unknown
My grandmother was never this deep philosophical well that you had to fall into to understand her. She was this very beautiful, intelligent and artistic woman who simply told it like it is. I had a moment of Memorial Day nostalgia today when I was walking. Every year my Grandma would decorate the family graves of our fallen family members. Not all succumbed to war, per say. Each had succumbed to health wars, birth wars and many wars I didn’t know or even begin to understand at my young age. I asked my Grandma once why we went to decorate the graves every year. In my grandmother’s simple way she said, “Because we must always remember, and never, ever forget and leave those we love behind.” I never really understood that altruism until I got much older. She was a smart woman and, like I said, not deeply philosophical, just down to Earth. After the graves were decorated I could always count on a trip to the Purple Turtle for a chocolate dipped ice cream cone, the best to be found in 100 miles, and of course, my grandma knew this. I miss you grandma.
I used to think Boston was singing when Marion walks away, which is my grandmother’s name. I know now it’s Marianne, but this is still my grandma’s song from me.