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From Paulette in Washington My grandparents were not really a part of my life. They lived on the other side of the world as far as I was aware (in New York and in Canada). Unlike me, my two daughters have been blessed to know both sets of grandparents, having lived in close proximity -in the very same town- their entire lives. From the time of their birth to college years (where they are now) they have had the rich experience of sharing their lives with four unique people called "grandparent". Their lives crisscrossed and were richer because of things like: being babysat as infants and toddlers, interviewing their Grandpa or Grandma for a school project in elementary and high school grades, spending holidays and sharing traditions that were passed down through the generations. Currently they are being covered by their prayers when little and big things pop up in their daily lives. This is one thing that miles cannot hinder since one child is about 500 miles away. Now wouldn't you say they have had a "grand" experience and a richer life sharing their lives with four fine people called "Grandparent". I would. Love you, From Gerry in Colorado I was one of 5 kids growing up in New York. My Grandparents lived upstate and we would make the 6 hour drive 5-6 times a year. My dad liked to drive in the quiet of the very early morning so he and mom would load us up in the station wagon while we were still asleep. We'd be lined up on pillows like logs and covered with several blankets. It was always a surprise for us to wake up and see Grammy and Grampy sitting on their front patio waiting for us, no matter WHAT time we would show up. It's like they waited all night for our arrival. The minute we piled out of the car, pillows and blankets in tow Grampy would get in the front seat and dad would take him for a ride around town and to buy a hot dog from the local hot dog cart. It was a ritual regardless of the time of day. Grampy immigrated from Germany and never had a car. He got around on a green bicycle with a basket on the handle-bars so a car to him was probably like a space ship. Grammy's famous Polish breakfast was always ready as was our assigned rooms. We always had fun when we visited. Even if it was just to hear stories about the old country and walk the old neighborhood and meet (again) all their neighbors. They died many, many years ago. Dear Grandma, Wow!, that story that you told us about your cat is sooooo funny!! My middle name is Richard. Michelle only hears that name when someone is mad at me. One morning Alex and Michelle were trying to get the cat out. His name is Larry. They told Larry: "go out side! Larry, go out side!" But he wouldn't go. So finally Michelle got mad and said: "Larry Richard, go out side!" So now our bad cat has a middle name. love, From Gerard Last summer we spent a week at the beach in Duck, N.C. We play in the waves, eat, sleep, play in the waves again. One of our highlights is catching ghost crabs. After dark small crabs come out onto the sand. If you have a flashlight, a bucket, and a little nerve they are a lot of fun. If you're quick you can swat them against the sand with your hand - they fold up and hold still. Then we carefully grab them behind the pinchers and run to the bucket. We fill up a bucket, then gather in a circle and dump it out. The dumping (and screaming) works best if you don't warn them. Boys are great hunters but girls seem to do better with the screaming part. Eventually most girls warm up to the hunt. One night we decided to go for a walk on the beach. Dale found a rope that was partially buried in the sand, and Jesse was able to pull it up and follow it for about 40 feet, then it was buried. So we decided to dig. I said there was nothing to dig, but they were excited about it. Then someone said the rope was tied to a piece of wood. Then someone dug up a hinge on the board. Bethany said we were ruining someone's birthday party. I said it was a buried murder victim and we were about to spend a night at the police station. Our friend Chuck gave a mighty heave on the rope and pulled up an old-looking wooden box big enough for a TV! Inside the box was a very old bottle of rum (well, ginger ale), treasure (candy, that is) and a gift for everyone in our family. I had worked on this box all day and only Dale had caught me. Too many secrets in one day. Well, her and the three year old girl on the beach who took one look at me with my box and my shovel and instantly proclaimed: "treasure!" Laura was onto me as soon as she saw Jesse with a string in his hand. The rest of the gang caught on when they saw their names on gifts. It's a pirate's life for me!
From Martha in New York Candi, I love this sight!!!! My favorite memory was when my grandbaby told me she loved me for the last time!!! She died of cancer when she was 7!!! It is ok though, because I know that God had mercy on her little soul and she is in heaven now!!!! Feel free to email me back anytime!!! have a wonderful day and rest of your life! From Brenda in Washington One of my favorite memories is picking up two of my grandchildren from Snohomish to bring to our house in Yakima. It was in the winter time and there was lots of snow on Snoqualmie Pass. We stopped to let the kids play in a huge snow drift.When my grandson, Cameron, age 9 reached the top, he yelled out...this is the best day of my life... I have pictures of this great event. I have many memeories coming over that pass and letting the kids play, so each time I go over, I think of Cam's "best day of his life". From Sandy in Virginia Almost 5 years ago I made a choice to get married again and move away to Virginia. At that time I had one granddaughter and since then I've acquired another. Words could never explain how they make me feel. I am 450 miles from them but I call them every day. The oldest is 8 and her sister is almost 16 months. Even on my worst days, just to hear their voice makes everything good again. When I visit or they visit we have our own time doing special things together... things like going to a certain restaurant to eat, cooking their favs, swinging together or whatever, its always special to us. I want them to have the best memories of me long after I am gone. I myself don't have these memories and neither do my own kids. Grandkids are what life is all about, can't explain the love they bring out in me and I miss them so bad some days, that its hard to handle. One day this week I was feeling really lonely and depressed, then all of a sudden the oldest, Madison, called me. When I heard that voice it was hard to explain how it made my day. The day she was born I told her she was my angel from heaven and to this day she still says she's my "ANGEL". They both are my gifts from God, couldn't ask for anything more in my life. LaVerne from Texas I was living in Minnesota--born and raised there--married the first time there and had all of my children there. We had a large apartment above the liquor store that my father was manager of. I (as well as my father) was terribly afraid of tornadoes and when there were warnings out and bad to severe weather, my father would yell upstairs to us that we needed to come downstairs and was there anyone that would go for a ride with him to have a lookout at the weather. I was always the one to want to go with my dad. Being the only girl of 5 children, my father and I had a very special relationship together. We would get in the car and drive around looking at the clouds in hopes that if something bad showed up we could encourage the rest to the family to come downstairs. After the storm (no tornado) but very heavy rain, hail and wind--- we again would go out in the car and see the damage that had been done. Driving trough the water in the streets that the drainage wasn't able to take care of was very exciting for me and just being with my dad was wonderful. There were times that my mother had to be gone---probably working and I needed to have something for school. I especially remember the time I was supposed to bring a cake to school. I knew I couldn't possibly get the cake baked and frosted in time and my mom was gone. Dad came to the rescue--he would bake the cake and all I would have to do would be to frost it. I came home from school and lo and behold--a beautiful cake awaited me and I had just enough time to get it frosted and get to the picnic. Again thanks to a wonderful dad--Your grandfather, who you never got to know as he died a age 61 and you were too young to remember him. I want to tell you more stories both about your grandma and great-grandma and your grandfather and your great-grandfather and give you things that you can save to remember about them. They were both the very best of parents I could ever wish to have. The word magnificent does not do them justice. More writings to come--- Mother and grandmother, Laverne
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