Over the River and Through the Woods

I love this picture of Whitney and his grandmother, I managed to snap it at his cousin's wedding this past summer.  This weekend we traveled to Douglasville because Whitney's grandmother passed away.  I did not have the privilege of knowing her longer than the few years we've been dating, and she has not been in good health since we've been dating.  However, from what I hear and the few conversations I've been able to have with her, she was one spunky woman.  She was independent, adventurous, generous, and caring all wrapped in one package.  Her family, friends, and church clearly meant the world to her, as evidenced of the outpouring of love at her funeral.

I know that Whitney loved his Grannie, and over the course of the weekend we shared many special memories with his family about her life and it gave me even more insight into his family and the people that she made them.  I told Whitney on the way home last night how lucky he was to have had his grandmother in his life as long as he did, and how blessed he is that his father's parents are both still alive.  Of course, this turned into a tale of my own crazy grandmother.

My mother's mother, or Gramma, is the only grandparent I still have left, and she's a wild one.   She runs circles around me at 72 with the amount of energy she has.  She volunteers at no less than 7 different organizations in town, and as anyone would tell you, if you ask her to do something she will simply do it without asking.  She is generous beyond measure, and has a certain passion for Christmas.  She is seriously known as "The Christmas Lady" around little Sylvania because of all her crazy Christmas decorations.  I only hope to be like her one day. 

Most importantly, she has taught me how important your family truly should be, and she does this in the most simple way--she cooks.  Yes, every Sunday she cooks a large meal for the family--whether there's 4 of us in town, or 10 of us in town--to eat together after church.  These are my fondest memories, both of childhood and now, and I know it's something she does because her mother did it, and her grandmother did it, and her great-grandmother did it.  One time I asked her why we eat every Sunday, and in her matter-of-fact way she told me "because that's just what our family does, and it's what we've always done".  Whitney thought it was a little strange at first, but like me, he's told me he comes to cherish these Sunday lunches.  We both know that like Whitney's Grannie, my Gramma won't be here forever, but we certainly want to enjoy every moment with her that we can.  Does this make us a little strange?  Most definitely.  But would we change it?  Not for the world.