I don’t remember much about my grandma, my mom’s mom, since she passed away when I was so young.
I think I was in the 3rd grade? Maybe? I’m not even sure about that.
It’s ALWAYS bothered me though that I didn’t get to have more time with her, and honestly, when I hear my cousins, who grew up with her around, talking about those years together, I get a little jealous.
But… that’s life. Right?
So, I absorb all the tales eagerly, almost desperately, trying to fit all the pieces together to form an overall picture of my grandma.
Honestly, I’m not even sure if these brief and flashing snippets I have are my own, or if they are images concocted from the stories I’ve heard…
No. I’m confident I saw her numerous times, with my own eyes, sitting there.
At the end of the couch, closest to the TV. With her short, fluffed white hair. Night gown on. Lined booties on her feet. The long, green cylinder next to her, with a line piping oxygen to her nose.
And that’s pretty much it.
By now, most everything else has faded away; even her presence at the kitchen table during our Saturday morning breakfasts.
I know she continues to live on though.
Through the memories others hold dear and near.
Through the stories that are told amongst family.
Through the lessons she taught my mom and her siblings that they’ve passed to their children.
Through the recipes she shared while in the kitchen.
Through the flowers she loved and grew.
She always had a holiday cactus around. I’m not even sure what kind now, but I can picture them in her home.
I think whenever anyone in the family sees one, their thoughts automatically go to her.
It does for me at least.
So, to watch this one, my very first one, grow, prosper and BLOOM has got me so excited and almost in tears.
Especially since I thought I over watered it a month ago.
I’m not exactly sure what brought it back to life, but either way, I like to think she had a hand in it.