Tuesday, January 29, 2008

To the maker of the world’s best cinnamon toast ever:

I want to tell you that I will remember, even if you can’t be with me for awhile.

I’ll remember the offered cups of hot chocolate at that giant kitchen table in the old house.

I’ll remember the pile of Goosebumps books you put in the bedroom for us grandkids.

And how you “forgot” we were still asleep at the insane hour of 10 o’clock the next morning, turning on that bedroom light at least half a dozen times or running into the door with the vacuum cleaner.

I’ll remember the white t-shirt with the blue stripes that had its home in the laundry room closet to forever be my nightgown when I stayed all night. It was comforting to fall asleep in a shirt that smelled like grandma’s house.

“Shit” You’re blessed refrain. And you did not sit still.

And you hovered over the oven door while you made sure the garlic bread got to be the perfect kind of crunchy.

The last time I ever rode in the car while you drove, I thought I was going to die.

Every time we went to the store, you would let me buy something. It always ended up being more than one thing.

I never saw another person who could cross their legs and still have them both touch the floor.

I’ll never forget sitting across from you at that tiny little table, watching you nurse coffee from a stained cup while you asked for the fifth time if I was hungry. No Grandma, I’m not hungry. You just fed me cookies.

And you thought your cigarettes were a secret for so long. We always knew.

And that dog, Andre, was the fattest animal that’s ever slobbered on me.

I remember all kinds of other things, like the way you would pat my hand as you sat next to me, or the way you would smile from across the room just to let me know you saw me. I remember the way you smell and the way your hair falls across your head. I remember you hands and fingernails and the way your cabinets held more candy than real food.
So Grandma, you aren’t really gone, see? You are right here with me. And it won’t be so very long, really, before I see you again. So I’m not saying goodbye, if it’s all the same to you. I’ll settle with “until next time” and keep these memories with me till then

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