Remembering Grandma A.

Last week was a tough one. My grandmother passed away and I was very busy at school and could not attend the funeral.

My grandma A. was always very quiet. When we would visit, my grandfather would sit in the recliner and watch a baseball game on the television. My mom and grandma would chat at the kitchen table and my sisters and I would play Clue or Lincoln Logs. Or we would flip through the Reader's Digest magazines (later in the large print edition) and then reach for the school yearbooks from when my dad and mom were young, laughing at the hairstyles, amazed at all the kids who had our last name or my mother's maiden name (names that are uncommon outside of   my parents' hometown).

For dinner there was always white bread with jelly on the table. I am sure we actually ate food, too, but I mainly remember the bread and jelly and of course the Pringles and 7Up (or Sprite?). I do remember that later the deserts came in low sugar versions for grandpa.

After we ate, we often played UNO at the formica table. Or if we were there in the afternoon, my sisters and I would take turns riding the bikes around town or jumping on the stumps in the backyard.
When my grandmother moved to Swiss Village, she became a pool shark: a slender, quiet woman with soft sweaters in pastel colors who won trophies.

She also continued to crochet, even when her eyesight began to fail. I have her afghan on my bed even now.
I will miss her.