My grandmother was a wonderful woman. She had red hair and the attitude to go with it. I was born with red hair, which quickly turned blonde. She wasn’t happy. Finally, about 8 years before she passed away she had a great-grandson with bright red curly hair. Anyway, she was a great lady. We had “tea pah-ties” (she was from Boston and had the greatest accent) at night with coffee ice cream and tea for the grownups. We played card games, Uno, and Upwords. We watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy (which I still do, even though my man mocks me for being “old”). Grandma knew how to crochet, cross stitch, and bake. She made the best gingersnaps. I make them at least once a year and think of her with every bite. She has 8 grandchildren; I am the youngest. Each grandchild got an afghan, I think for their wedding. My grandma passed away when I was a sophomore in college. She had asked me what color afghan I wanted. I chose blue. When she passed away my mom found her basket with my blanket started, but not finished. My mom told me she would try to finish it. For years I would see it at my parents’ house wondering if I’d ever get grandma’s blanket. This year for my birthday my mom gave me the finished afghan. At the top you can see the part my grandma did. They are so similar, but there is a slight difference. I am so glad. I am thrilled to be able to see what Grandma did with her hands. I cried when I got it. My mom had to learn how to crochet like Grandma; it took a long time. It is priceless to me.
I’m thankful that the weather is cooler today. I’m sitting on the couch, wrapped in my afghan, watching the Red Sox beat the Blue Jays. My Baby Girl is on the floor playing with her dolls; my little man is moving around still waiting to make his arrival. My grandma is in heaven with a huge smile on her face. She is telling my grandpa, “Bud, look at that!” Thanks, Grandma. I love you.