Helen

on a walk behind Grammy's house

Vermont was beautiful this weekend- the foliage, of course, mixed with unusually warm days full of hot sunshine. Family time. Beautiful drives. A good dose of nostalgia. We made the drive up for Grammy's funeral, a quiet, intimate gathering that I was relieved to experience. It seemed about time we pay tribute to this spark of a woman.

There are good stories to share about Grammy- how she drove a backhoe and would give her grandchildren rides in it's bucket, how she used her motorcycle to pull her daughter on a bicycle, how she saw her last couple years in an elderly home as "ministry to the old folks," working to make the other residents various crafts out of plastic canvas and constantly trying to cheer those around her. She was 93 when she passed away this Spring- most of those "old folks" were younger than her, for certain, but few, if any, had her childlike spunk.

Grammy was not perfect, but she was heartfelt- striving, learning, seeking purpose. She was stubborn and strong and loved children most of all. Oh Grammy. I hope you're sitting with Ernie, enjoying a turkey club, and throwing back chocolate syrup straight from the bottle.