Twice, over the past several months, I've had an opportunity of visit with a couple of people who've known my grandmother and aunts. My grandmother died in 1970, at the age of 70, and so she's been gone a long, long time. When she died, it seemed to me as a teen that she was old - now I know how much longer she could've lived.
To sit and hear people talk of her - and yesterday, of her daughter (my mother's oldest sister Lee) is both comforting and interesting. The lady to who I talked yesterday, told me that my grandmother would go up to the school for something and wear an odd, knitted cap on her head no matter the weather. It would embarrass my aunt to death for her to do that, and I laughed at the thought that, even "back then," parents embarressed their kids. She (my Mamaw) had to have been a young woman then - and yet I only see her in my mind's eye as an elderly saint.
All this brings to mind - what is it my family and friends will say about me when I'm dead and gone? Will my granddaughters wrap lovely stories around them as I have these? Will they be proud to tell people, "Amy LaMore was my grandmother!" ? Will I leave funny stories and stories of good deeds for them to emulate? I can only hope....
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If you would like for your grandkids to have funny stories to tell about you I'm sure I can give them a few - the Colorado video, your perm in High School, and a very memorable night in College Station come to mind. I can hear them laughing now...
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