>> grandma

I saw an elderly lady in Walmart yesterday whose shoulder-length white hair was pulled back with a thin clip, and for whatever reason I was reminded of my grandma and how she might have worn something like that in her hair. 

My mind went on a tailspin of memories about her, flashing one after another like a fast-moving slideshow. I saw her thin frame, apron-clad, standing over the sink. I saw me as a child, drawing one crayon masterpiece after another on scrap pieces of whatever paper I could get my hands on then proudly presenting to her in exhausting fashion. 

I saw her humble abode--a trailer with furry rust-colored, matted down carpet in the bedrooms (which were mostly off limits), a rusty white iron porch on the front and a wooden porch on the back. I loved playing house on the iron steps.

I saw her bookcase stuffed with encyclopedias full of humans' skeletal and muscular diagrams that fascinated me to no end. 

I saw her pretty vintage dresses. Midi length, thinning cotton, floral print, most feminine little things you've ever seen. 

All these vivid memories of my childhood led to me to dream about my Grandma last night. In my dream, it was just she and I. I took care of her in her trailer house. I washed her beautiful vintage dresses and took special notice of all the details in them. We laughed and we hugged.

Then one day, my duties were officially over. I wasn't expected to go back and see her, but I did. She sat frail as a flower in a wheelchair and when I showed up at her door, she smiled. She told me I didn't have to come but she was glad I did. We laughed and hugged and I washed her dresses for her. She told me she had peace.

It's amazing to me that I had this dream. My grandma has been in Heaven for 9 years. I don't often think of her and mourn, but when I think back to being a small child and the memories I have of being around her, that time is so vivid and alive. I remember smells and textures and expressions--little things that haven't faded away with time. It's as if I walked around her home back then with eyes wide open, enthralled and romanced. 

This morning I'm left thinking about my grandma and how she was and is so much more than my limited childhood memory of her. She was once a young girl with dreams and secrets. She was a wife, mother and daughter of the King. She was so much more complex than the simple memory I have of her.

I can't wait to sit down next to her one day and just chat.