When my Grandma Smith died I inherited some of her serving spoons. (My one sister got some of her furniture, my other sister got her set of china, I got some spoons. But that's not the point of this blog.)
Today, as I was making a cake, I pulled out one of those spoons to mix my batter. Instantly, memories of my special Grandma flooded my mind. She was special in so many ways. I remember eating Pringles for the first time at her house. I'm sure she bought them just for me (well, maybe for my sisters as well) but I'm pretty sure she didn't purchase them for herself. I loved breakfast at her house. She made the best biscuits in the world. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that they were Pillsbury Biscuits. Maybe that's why I still really prefer Pillsbury Biscuits over homemade.
I've been told that when I was very young I didn't want much to do with her, but this didn't stop her from loving me. Grandma would take the time to play games with me. One summer she used her time and talent to make some clothes for my doll.
I miss my Grandma, and am so thankful for the memories that just a little spoon can offer.
I hope that now that I am a Grandma, I can create some special times with my grandchildren. Maybe one day they will bake a cake and have some special memories of me.
2 comments:
I feel the same way when I use her mixing bowl. I won't mention the pie safe, as I sense there is still some resentment there! Oops, just mentioned it.
Mercy, mercy! I can't read any more. I miss Grandma Smith so much. When I developed the ache in my back, I got just a tiny inkling of what she had to endure for several years. She would ask me to rub some of that emu oil on while saying "I don't know if it helps but maybe it will help a little. I learned so much from her.
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