My grandma has been gone for many years now…and yet, I remember.
I remember riding my bike the few miles to her house when I was a kid.
I remember going outside with her to glide back and forth on her glider.
I remember heading straight for her glass candy dish and picking out a pink peppermint.
I remember her puffy sugar cookies.
I remember being on the receiving end of lots of squishy, lingering hugs.
I remember being loved.
Yesterday, my mom gave me my grandma’s wedding ring and this morning I looked at it again and spun it around on my finger. Her ring size is different than mine, otherwise, I might wear it on my right hand.
But just holding it in my hand sparked so many memories of time spent with her.
My dearest hope is that many years from now my own family won’t just remember everything I did with them…but they’ll remember that above all, I loved them.
My grandmother’s greatest achievement was loving us…and letting us know it.
To her, we were works of art and we felt priceless in her presence. What a gift.