Audge

There has always been something about memorial day that has always touched me. Even as a little girl. There are things and feelings about it that never seem to change. Ever since I can remember, my family (my mom's side), has always come together on Memorial Day, had breakfast at grandma's, and then head to the cemetery to visit the graves of multiple family members. Now, the headstones have increased in number since I was a little girl, but that's just how life goes. Both my great grandma and my grandpa  have joined my other family members. Anywho, our tradition is to gather around and then we share memories of the people there, or just memories of relatives some of us kids didn't know. Now, by this time, I have SOME memories to share. I remember my granny fairly well, even though I was quite young, and I have lots of fond memories of my dear grandpa. 

First, granny. 

She was the funniest little lady. Hahah, quite the attitude. I always liked her. She was this little bent over woman that never lost her fire. I remember one christmas I got a doctor set, and I gave her a complete check up. We even have it on video. But one of the most vivid memories I have of her is when I and my grandpa, or my grandma, would go over on sundays to pick her up for dinner. Her tiny little apartment smelled like her (kind of that old woman smell), and she had brightish orange colored furniture, and a cute little cuppie doll. I loved her. My grandma now owns her. But my  favorite thing was her giant jar of tootsie roll suckers. :) :) And every time I went over she would let me have one. I remember one specific time she let me have two, and grandpa got kind of upset that I got two, but she kind of put him in his place that they were HER suckers to give out, and she could do what she wanted. Hahah, I thought she was wonderful. Sadly, she passed away when I was only 6 years old. But I remember her well. 

My grandpa.

He was probably one of the greatest men I have ever known. I could not be more proud to have him as my grandpa. He had a laugh and smile that could always make you feel warm and happy inside. Always. Some of my strongest and most memorable memories of him are working with him outside. I loved to help him outside in his shop, or working in the yard, anything like that. He called me his little helper. Yes, I'm sure she called lots of his granddaughters that, and even daughters, but when he called me that, I felt more special than anyone else. He would always introduce me to the neighbors like that, "This is my little helper, Audrey." I loved to go on his walks with him, and sometimes grandma came too. That was before it became too hard for him to walk that long. But I loved that time. As I got older, I loved walking into their house and being able to see him down in the haven in his chair, waving up at us, smiling. I wish now, with all my heart, that I had told him more often that I loved him. It's one of those things I have to get better at. But I can only hope that he feels my love. I miss him, a lot. 

I have a great family. All those who have passed, and all those who are living. And I hope that everyone else can feel the same for theirs. Families are the basis for life. For those of you who thought you need food and shelter to live, well, you're wrong. You need family. And good friends. And I have both. And I am blessed.