I’ve said before how fortunate I was that when I married Tom, he came with a grandmother. Her name was Louise–the middle name of my own paternal grandmother–but I always called her Grandma, like all the other grandkids and their partners and spouses. She lived to be ninety-two, and every time I saw her, she seemed as sharp as ever and was always ready to tell me stories, which I loved to hear. I also loved her twinkling eyes and her mischievous attitude.
I was just looking through an album that Tom’s parents put together in honor of Grandma’s ninetieth birthday (for her party, it was suggested that we all bring her ninety of something, so along with other gifts, Tom and I gave her ninety crayons and some coloring books, because I believe we are never too old to color) while thinking of some of her stories that made me laugh, especially her ongoing war with the gophers in her garden. I found this photo that I’d forgotten about (not sure who took it).
Grandma at age eighty-nine shooting hoops with her son-in-law Boyd and his son-in-law Todd. I’d love to have even a fraction of her stamina as I get older!
Brings back memories of my mom who enjoyed playing with her grandchildren. At her 92nd birthday she told us she thought she’d like to be a hundred.
Midwestern women are strong.
Bravo to Louise, she sounds like she was a great lady. I hope the shot went in.
(And yes, we’re never too old to color)
Eric
Hi, Eric! Thanks for commenting. Just checked out your blog and looking forward to reading more.
i love grandma.
Me, too!
Wow, I don’t think my nan could have done that at 75!
It amazed me that Chris had a grandparent still alive when I met him. Having kids and grandkids young does that, I guess?