An Unexpected Twist

Six days after I married my husband, my grandma died. It was unexpected and awful and not at all the way that I expected to begin my marriage. Or my first blog post as a newlywed. I had thought that my first blog post would be filled with the differences between the North and the South as I began to navigate my new life. Like the difference between a buggy and a shopping cart (where I come from, a buggy is pulled by a horse and most likely has an Amish driver. It is not something that holds items you intend to buy while in a store. But in the South it is). Rather than continue with this train of thought, I decided to reflect on the woman who shaped me and my family. My grandma was faith-filled, no-nonsense, family-oriented woman. From her, I learned to love quilting, mint jelly, knitted dishcloths, Northern cornbread (there is a difference between cornbread in the North and the South, but that belongs to a future blog post), simple and tenderly-given Christmas gifts, homey kitchens, farmhouses, homemade grape Popsicles, evenings spent on a porch, the Little House on the Prairie books, and that any time spent with the ones you love is precious.  Some of my best memories as a child were spending a week with her in the summer on my grandparents' farm, learning how to quilt. Chilly fall afternoons running around the barn, playing with my cousins, are another great memory. More recently, I have memories of her from my bridal shower, thanking her for the knitted Christmas tree skirt she made for our new home. Of watching the local Memorial Day parade and hearing her telling me about the bit of purple lace she intended to fit into the neckline of the dress she wanted to wear to my wedding so it would be more appropriate. Of her welcoming my husband to the family with open arms, telling him that he is now her youngest grandson since he is the newest member of the family. Of her being surrounded by all of her children and most of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren on our wedding day. These memories are recent and precious and remind me of the wonderful woman she was.  Grief hits us all in different ways. For me, it's little thoughts or memories that hit me when I least expect it and cause my throat to close up. When one of those thoughts recently hit me, I suddenly thought that even though I am embarking on a new chapter of my life, the foundation of who I am comes from my family and how they raised me. I will carry a piece of my grandma with me wherever I go and I fully intend to keep her close, both now and in the future. She was a part of me and I was a part of her. And with that comforting thought in mind, I am going to go make cornbread and eat a piece for her.  I love you, Grandma.