My grandma passed away on Friday morning. She’s the one who I spoke about in my post about writing and storytelling (“So You Wanna Be An Author”). Her passing was expected but it doesn’t lessen the pain and the grief.
My sister and I went on a leisurely (ok … semi-leisurely) 16.5 mile bike ride around our hometown of Hayward, Wi. We reminisced about Grandma. There were a lot of interchanges that started with “Remember when …” and the other would reply fondly, “Oh yeah!”
Remember when she put us in her big whirlpool tub and let us play with pots, pans, and strainers because she didn’t have any “kids” toys at her house?
Remember her water bed and the relish tray breadsticks that she stashed around her house?
Remember the massage chair that we use to climb on and treat as an indoor slide?
Remember her alpaca rug with the polar bear on it?
Remember that intricate dollhouse that she kept in her basement apartment?
Remember how much she loved us?
I was happy to have those 16 miles with my sister to reminisce, laugh, and cry a little. I’m going to need a lot more miles in the upcoming week to cope and to process and to grieve. But I’ve never been happier to have biking and my sister in my life.