A Hug from Grandma…
Having lost both sets of grandparents at an early age, I’m envious of those who still have their grandparents. Not in a mean-spirited way, I appreciate the relationships that are able to grow, the stories that continue to be told, the hugs that can make the most cynical melt into a mushy blob of goo.
I’m happy for my husband who still has his Grandpa Sam and Grandma Jan. Though the road trip down to Paris, TN this summer was 10 hours long in a minivan with no A/C and two rambunctious boys in the back seat, it was so worth the visit!
Little things I remember about my own Grandma (Stepps) :
- Stories she’d tell us about her and her girlfriends going to the dance hall and waiting for boys to ask them to dance.
- The smell of roast baking in her kitchen oven, juices bubbling around the pan, potatoes crisping brown, carrots, glazed with a sheen of butter.
- Grandma’s fondness for Old Style beer and Salem cigarettes.
- And most of all…Grandma’s big squeezy hugs! She would bury my face into her hug, enveloping me in her baby soft arms and faint smell of talcum powder.
What little things conjure up sweet memories for you? Anything that can be woven into a story?