I went to the cemetery today and visited the graves of my mother, my maternal grandparents and my brother. I don’t remember my grandma, she died of cancer when I was just a toddler. My grandpa died when I was about 12 but after having a stroke he came to live with us for a while. I remember him before the stroke, he often wore a fedora and loved Pecan Sandies. I should probably miss him more than I do, but I remember feeding him popsicles and hearing him swear (those seemed to be some of the words that he didn’t lose with the stroke). One day, while I was sitting with him feeding him a popsicle, he grabbed me by the arm. He held on pretty tightly and at the time it scared me. I think he was trying to tell me that he loved me, but I kind of skedaddled out of there. I wonder if I hurt his feelings, but I’ll never know.
Matt and mom I miss a whole lot.
While I visited with the headstones I wondered whether my mom and grandparents would be proud of me if they were around today. I’ve been reading old papers and my grandma’s (paternal) history and I’ve been impressed that I have some pretty amazing people in my family and wondered how I measured up.
I didn’t have any flowers to take to the cemetery with me today, so after I mowed the lawn I decided to cut a few tulips and take a picture in tribute to some pretty neat people. I probably should have done 4 but I learned in second grade that until you have over a dozen you should always use an odd number or they look weird.