Gerd

I really do like writing on this blog. Sometimes my satisfaction comes from being able to accurately express my precise thoughts and other times my satisfaction derives from reading through previous entries. I love seeing change in myself! "If you aren't growing, then you are slowing dying." This saying has integrated itself into my life many years ago and I believe the truth within it. I want to be constantly changing for the better and my favorite way to see that change is to look back and see where I was (insert desired amount of time) ago. For instance, two years ago on February 3rd I was in Spain. The date is important to me because today is the 2nd anniversary of my grandma's death.

I don't have anything life-changing to say regarding this anniversary (I always feel a certain amount of pressure to be eloquent, relevant, and purposeful in my blogging). Nothing beyond I really miss my Grandma Gerd.

This is my Grandma. She represented everything that was ladylike, loving, gracious, endearing, warm, friendly, kind, and observant to me.

One of my most vivid, unique memories with her happened when I was very little and still living in our old house. This was our first family home and in the same town as both sets of my grandparents. I must have been somewhere between the ages of five and seven. I had Grandma to myself for a few minutes and we were upstairs (split-level home), standing near the railing that sectioned off the entry landing. Grandma was teaching me to curtsy. Left foot back, right foot in front. Bend your knees slightly and spread your skirt out gracefully. Curtsying was a skill that none of my peers could perform - let alone identify.

Grandma Gerd hosted tea parties in her kitchen too. She kept a plastic tea set in the downstairs bedroom. We would sit around the high kitchen table and sip water out of the very, very small cups with our pinkies in the air.

She made Toll House cookies and my sister and I would sneak the brown sugar. Grandma knew we were sneaking it of course but she turned a blind eye towards our transgressions. The finished cookies were kept in a red apple cookie jar located near the back door. Unfortunately, the cookie jar had a distinctive "ping" when the lid bumped against the bottom. Mom and Dad always knew when my sister, my brother, and I attempted to "rescue" numerous cookies.

Grandma and Grandpa also kept donuts in the bread drawer in the kitchen. I don't remember how often I would get some, but I remember begging for a donut quite often. I liked the plain ones and my little brother liked the powdered sugar ones.

I really miss my Grandma. There is so much that I wish I could share with her today. I am so grateful that I took the time to visit both her and my grandpa when they were alive. She was always prepared to sit down and talk with me. She always asked me about my life. I wish I could have asked more questions about her and her current interests, but I settled for asking about her life, her childhood, her family, her years early in her marriage, etc. I learned a lot about my family history through my Grandma Gerd and that helped me develop my identify. I know who I am because I know where I come from. I love being able to drive down the streets of Aurora and see the island that her family owned many, many years ago. I liked hearing stories about the Senator - my Grandma Gerd's grandfather - and seeing the correspondence with the President of the United States.

There was a point in my life when I was upset that my family didn't speak Spanish (or any other second language) or have any unique traditions that would differentiate me from my classmates. Grandma Gerd unknowingly fixed that. A family is only as strong or as "cool" as the love they share. Traditions are a reflection of that love. I love my family dearly. I am so blessed that I was able to spend twenty-one years with her.