I worry that in years from now I will forget the little things that Grandma did, said, or told us. I don’t ever want to forget:

• The way she smelled all throughout my growing up. The scent of her lotion or perfume (never did figure it out).
• The softness of her hands.
• The way she wore blue constantly.
• The way her hugs felt – all encompassing and soft.

• The way she used strange items in recipes- things never heard of before and never meant to be combined with something else…and the way it usually worked.
• The sight of her in front of the kitchen window and over the sink.
• Her passing around cookies at the table after dessert was served.
• Her collection of knick knacks and birds that she kept displayed in the kitchen window.
• The way she always fed us nuts and apricots.
• Her love and skill at Ikebana.
• The way she knew how to dry flowers and make them look beautiful on display.
• The fact that she taught me how to properly use a cutting knife on her chopping block in Port Townsend.
• The time she force fed me lima beans.
• The seemingly endless lines of friends she had that visited or called.
• The way her hand felt in mine as we walked.
• Her wisdom in our daily conversations of, “Carry On”; “Keep Your Eyes Open”; and “Stay Successful”.
• The way she thought my Uncle Bill and Dad were hilarious. The way she would say their names when she thought they were a bit too funny.

• The art that surrounded her in every home.
• Her work on Officer’s Row in Port Townsend.
• Her love of scrabble, bridge, and marbles.
• Her stories of growing up in Tacoma.
• The way Al and Grandpa made her giggle.
• Her lectures.
• Her serving fruit at every breakfast.
• The fact that Tim met her when he was only sixteen.
• The way she gave freshly baked bread to the widower across the street and the mailman…just because.
• The way she kept Mentos, umbrellas, maps, Kleenex, and a blanket in her vehicles at all times.
• The horrible 3-D crocheted sweater she gave me in the winter of 1995 and the way I loved it in all its hideousness.
• The comfort of her guest rooms and beds that gave me so much rest.
• Her individually typewritten invitations to each family for events – typos and all.
• Her stock of tinker toys and playing cards.
• Going to the ol’ fashioned ice cream shop with her in Port Townsend.
• Her love for all her grandchildren and the way she wanted them to feel equally special and appreciated.