Grandma

As promised, I finished for one more day last night. A lovely, thought-provoking book. And it did make me think about all the people I'd lost and who I would want one more day with--especially if I could only choose one. I think I'd have to choose my Grandma Ingols. I'm quite sure she knew how much I (and all the grandkids) loved her, but did I really tell her? Enough? Or properly thank her? Probably not.

I'd want to tell her just how much I loved spending the night at grandma's house--even when I was a teenager. That she was the absolute best at making bacon and fried eggs for breakfast. Nobody can make the white so nice and crispy and leave the yolk soft for dipping toast like Grandma. And the toast that came out of her ancient toaster? Perfection. And that I loved helping her make home-made dumplings even though I hated when she added them to ham & beans (it was the ham & beans I hated, not the dumplings). And, as Charley puts it in the book, how she "stood up" for me when Dad was getting after me. ["Now, Phil, don't be so hard on her. She's just going through a stage."]

I'd want to tell her how wonderful she made growing up in our family. And how much I appreciate that for her family always came first. But mostly I'd just like to say, "I love you, Grandma. I really do. You're the greatest." I hope she can hear me.