Just a single word - one name - and my mind floods...
memories, thoughts of family ties, bits of passed down wisdom,
images, photographs, priceless moments rush like waves over bridges...
I see her place in Bellingham - the fireplace, books galore, hours of
Scrabble (where even at 7 she impressed upon me that big words are
not always the most valued), our separate "house" to play in, and
those curious steep stairs - some that only seemed to be avenues to
Heaven. Heaven. Gramma. My mind flashes again - to Lynnwood at my
gramma's house, I cannot begin to capture all the moments there, all
her visits. Visiting. She visited me in Austin on one of here
genealogy treks and took me to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse, a place my
graduate student budget would have never taken me. Erin and I
visited her in Mazatlan for our most recent visit. Mazatlan. Her
haven. She drove us all over(!!) telling stories. Said she hadn't
talked so much in eons! We talked about sisters - my mind flutters
again - to her sister (my gramma), to my sister, to my mom who
cherished her dearly. Family. Flurries of family events rush to my
mind - past celebrations, even those with Gramma Groves (another
flutter), holidays, music, treasured family items she passed down,
Christmas and birthday gifts that I still use. Gifts. My cozy pink
robe that hangs on the back of my bedroom door, the one she ran right
out to buy me when I was 16 after mom mentioned I didn't have one, a
gift that reminds me how I want to respond to others, to actually
MEET the need they have in the moment not just discuss it. I can
still hear her say, " Well that just won't do, she MUST have one" and
off she went. She returned within the hour with a beautiful package,
not just a JC Penney bag. I was stunned and delighted. Another
indelible mark, like her optimism. Other sound bites rush in... of
sage encouragement that "I COULD do it, even on my own" - whatever IT
was, discussions of her book, encouragement for mine, her weekly
"blog", the click of her high heels, laughter, that unmistakable laugh...
How shall I sort my river of thoughts to convey how this passing impacts me.
Of all the images, words and memories that flood in - 1 - connects them all...
A word in my mind that will never be old.
Anna (Abbey) Diver
Give Gramma a hug from me.