Closeness

I feel very fortunate because all of my life I have had a close bond with my Grandma Bev. She and I just have a huge love for one another that has had no boundaries, whether it be distance (Minnesota to Hawaii or Arizona) or familial tension, there is nothing that stands in the way of our relationship. When I was a little girl I always got the best birthday and all sorts of other holiday cards from her with little slots for dimes/nickels/quarters and I always felt so excited to receive them, be it Easter or Halloween I felt honored that she thought of me and sent me a sweet treat. Speaking of sweet treats, Grandma Bev always had goodies in her kitchen, when I would fly back to visit my Dad in the Summer or at Christmas I would sit in her kitchen, on a red step stool and visit with her while eating some sort of delicious cookie or bar, even a graham cracker tasted better if it came from her. I always thought she was the best cook on the planet and could make any dinner taste absolutely remarkable. I tease her that she can open a can of creamed corn and it's the love that she has in opening it that makes it taste so much better than anything I've ever had. we continue to have our close bond, mainly over the telephone, although there isn't a time I don't go back to Minnesota and spend as much time as possible with her, her hugs are definitely second to none, no one has ever made me feel as much love with one hug as her, except perhaps my Dad. I try to give her a call at least once a month and when we talk time flies right on by and the next thing I know it's been an hour...or two. We have so much in common it seems, love of family, the tight bond you have with one or two girlfriends, home, deals and discounts and ways of saving money, cooking and growing things, making things and most of all humility and kindness.
I love the stories she tells about her childhood, her parents and brothers and sisters, the Great Depression and of raising her five Children. My Dad is the second oldest, the oldest boy and was always giving her a run for her money, in a very cute and funny way. Never lacked a sense of humor, my Dad would make my Grandmother laugh even when she should have been scolding him because of his wily ways. Today she told me a story about when she had cooked a venison roast that one of her brothers brought to her after he shot and killed a deer, she told the kids, who were all under the age of 4, that was what they were having and how they got it once it was set on the table with the other side dishes and my Dad exclaimed, and I can almost hear his little voice saying it now, "Well then who shot the potatoes!"
I adore listening to the stories my Grandma tells me and I miss the way she smells, the light in her eyes, the giant hugs that last for several minutes and the fact that, so similarly to me, some stories bring on the tears and she cannot hold back her emotions because they just come, she's very on the surface with her feelings and that's just another one of the many reasons I adore her.