Grandmothers

I'm wearing a ring right now that TRQ and I pass back and forth, depending on who needs it the most at the time.  We like to think that whoever is wearing it gets a little extra love and guidance from her mother, my grandmother.  So if TRQ is in a bad way, she gets the ring.  Same holds true for me.

TRQ slipped the ring off her finger at Christmas and put it on mine and told me I needed it and WHO AM I EVER EVER EVER TO ARGUE WITH TRQ?!

So I'm wearing it now and yes.  I am thinking of my grandmother.  Both grandmothers, actually.  I've been taking care of some granddaughters myself for the past few days and I am remembering all the small ways my grandmothers took care of me--especially my maternal grandmother with whom I spent more time.  How she combed my hair.  How she let me run around practically naked in the fruit orchard behind our house because I wanted to feel the sun on my skin.  How she told me trees could talk if only I would listen.  How she smelled like cold cream when we snuggled in bed at night.  How she said I'd look like Jackie Kennedy if I ate my beets at dinner.  How she knit me carpet slippers for Christmas.

I had lunch with my cousin Deb this Christmas who came into the big boisterous Edwards clan when her mother married my uncle.  Deb was four at the time--Dorothy had been married before--and Grandma Edwards sent her the same sparkly birthday card with the same crisp birthday dollar bill tucked inside that she sent to all 86 of her other grandchildren.  Deb told me she still has those cards--those sparkly pieces of paper that said yes.  Welcome to our family.  You are no different than the others.

I was so lucky to have grandmothers that knew how to love well their small ones.