Category: memory

Un-Memory 1.1

I remember when I was about four, going to get my photograph taken.  I remember because I have one of the copies of the photograph that was once hanging in my Grandparents house, sitting on my desk, like it once sat on hers.  My Grandparents took me to this photo place and we had these matching sweaters, Cameron and I.   I had no idea why they had to match but they did, grandma promised that if we were good for the lady with the camera that we would get to go to the park afterwards.  She was always so nice to us, and always wanted to do fun things. I miss having her around to be supportive and kind, and to listen to my woes.

While Grandma was trying to get us to smile she was standing behind the photographer lady who said “should we get Grandma to dance?”

Grandma started dancing the funky chicken behind the photographer and trying to make us laugh, I Remember the way that her orange turtleneck sweater hung around her as she was dancing there.  I don’t know why we weren’t more helpful, She was just trying to surprise my mother with pictures of her children.  Grandma did that pretty regularly, she snuck us off to the photo studio and got our portraits made before that, and at least five more times in my life after this instance with the matching sweaters.

Grandma loved my Mother so much, just like my Mom was the daughter she had always wanted.  She treated me the same, like the daughter she had always wanted. She was there in the crowd at all my graduations, almost more proud of me than my own parents. It seemed like she always knew exactly what I wanted every time I saw her, regardless of if it was a hug, or the most perfect christmas present that I didn’t even know I wanted or needed, but there she was, always with the best gift of all.

She was magical like that, I can only hope to be that good when I have grand-children.  I can only hope to be so perfect of a mother.

I wish I could have gotten to know her better before she passed away.  I wish she was still around in her house, close enough to ours that I could run away there when I was fighting with my parents as a teenager, but not so close that it was still like being at home.   I wish she was still there, standing behind the camera, dancing the funky chicken just to make me laugh.