A place for anything and everything that comes to mind.

Friday, April 05, 2013


I have spent the day thinking about a very special lady, my husband's grandmother, Joan.  She left us on Sunday, March 24, and I have so many wonderful memories of her.  Not as many as my dear husband, of course, but I was remembering her fondly today.

It hurt not being with my husband and his family today: he was at work, while I held down the fort at ole FMS, and his family was remembering her at planned services in Scotland.  I want to humbly relay some of my favorite times with her...if you allow me to do so.

She was 80 years young when I met her.  I was nervous, because she was the one whose opinion REALLY counted.  I was kind of in love with her grandson...well, not kind of...for sure was more like it.  He would talk and talk AND talk about her, and I knew I had to "get in" with Grandma.  But, there was no need to get in: she welcomed me like family from the beginning.

She bought me my first Indian meal, and I was so impressed with how this "mature" woman wolfed down her Indian.  OK, not "wolfed," for she was a dainty eater, but she put it away nonetheless.  She also took me hiking in the Trossachs, taught me (along with Martin) how to play Pooh Sticks while there, and I had to keep up with HER on those hilly trails.  She pointed out birds and wildlife along the way, and I got to see firsthand what a special relationship she had with my love.  It was beautiful.

As the years went by, she provided me with classical music ("I have FOUR copies of Vivaldi's Four Seasons.  I think I can spare ONE for you, Amanda."), made us countless gallons of the BEST soup in the world, and she was always ready to pick us up at the train station in her cute, wee red car.

However, the memory I might hold dearest is when she comforted me after #2 fell mouth first into his sippy cup.  He had just gotten his two front teeth, and he had an accident in which blood gushed everywhere.  I thought for sure the teeth would be gone, and his mouth ruined forever.  I was near hysterics, Martin was gone, and I didn't know WHAT to do.  Even though she had been kind of distant and quiet, all of a sudden she came to, and she told me when her son had a nasty, bloody accident in their backyard.  She said, "It's okay, love.  We're mums.  We always figure out what to do."  She calmed me, and I felt her overwhelming love and devotion for her children and mine in that moment.

I miss her, and I only knew her for brief moments over 12 years.  She was an amazing woman, with amazing stories, and the center of the family I now call my own.  Heaven is so lucky today.