A little more than ten years ago, my husband and I flew to Florida from Oregon for spring break. We had just bought a new video camera, state of the art, and I used it all week, recording mundane conversations and a few great nuggets with my grandparents. The other day I grabbed the camera from storage, knowing that I could watch the obsolete tapes on its mini-screen. I woke up thinking of my Grammie and wanting to hear her voice again. She had this great laugh. The first few minutes of the tape I chose had my favorite story she used to tell me all the time about donuts.
One day, she and I went to the grocery store, or it might have been my brother, none of us remembers, but there is my Grammie with a small version of one of us, and outside the grocery store, the delicious smell of fresh donuts.
"Oh, Grammie, smell the donuts!" one of us exclaimed.
She was so impressed that neither my brother nor I ever asked for treats, no matter how good they smelled, that from there on she bought us donut holes for breakfast every time we were at her house in the morning. We thought she was the best Grammie ever, donuts for breakfast!!
If I ever came into money, I would buy her old house, just for the happy memories. Christmas at her place was amazing. And Thanksgiving. And a lobster dinner every time we were going away to South America.
I love you, Grammie, thank you, and I miss you.