I Miss My Grama
In no particular order, my Grama taught me how to spell and write my last name, work my multiplication tables, ride a bike, shell green beans on the front porch, “visit†and have a conversation, accessorize any outfit or ensemble, use loose tobacco to ease the pain of a wasp sting, tell the difference between milk and buttermilk before you pour it on your cereal, use a toaster and make a pop tart (which she’d cut up into little squares and slather with butter), the just right ratio of tiny marshmallows to hot cocoa, how to have perfect hair at all times, be kind to everyone I meet, love an occasionally difficult spouse, clean my room, pray for my family, enjoy a good soap opera, and leave a legacy marked by kindness, fidelity, faith and love.
Mildred passed away quietly the week my son Moses was born. Moses turns 2 this week. I miss my Grama.