Sunday Story-time with Grandma Hen

We all had our own special times with Grandma. Over the last few years, I liked driving out to see her on the weekends, mainly Sundays. While I never gave these visits a title, I will hereby refer to them as "Sunday Story-time with Grandma Hen".

When she was feeling up to it, Grandma would head down for Sunday brunch at noon and would usually get back up to her apartment by 1pm. I would try to time my visits so that I was there just in time to hear what was on the menu for that week. I always prayed she would be served her favorite--waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. (When she first moved into Hallmark, I would go to brunch and sit with her table of ladies--I remember the first time we went together, we got the waffles and they were very good!)

During our visits together, I would usually make each of us a cup of tea (sometimes Grandma would just prefer hot water) and we'd delve into Grandma's stash of sweets or, when we were feeling healthy, digestive biscuits.

What did we talk about? I have to say that I didn't spend a lot of time talking about myself-by my choice. Instead, we'd spend time talking about her youth-about living in Glasgow, her family, her job and her friends, meeting Pa...I think these were the happiest times of her life-she was always smiling and laughing when she'd tell me her stories. Of course, we'd inevitably end up talking about the bad food at Hallmark, or the silly 'old people' she lived with-I think she liked to vent about it. But I'd always do my best to steer the conversation back to happier thoughts--to her own baking, to her garden, to some of her favorite tv shows or books she was reading.

I don't know what it was about spending this time with her, but I would always come away feeling relaxed. Calmer. I would often yawn during our visits--not because I was bored, but because I was just feeling so mellow and happy--and she would always tell me that I needed to sleep more! I think she worried about my sleeping habits-so if you can see me now, Hen, you'll know that I wasn't lying-I actually do get my 8 hours!

These are some of my favorite memories of spending time with Grandma...which makes Sundays extra hard days for me. Humans are creatures of habit, as they say, and my body is still trying to comprehend what has happened to my Sundays.

But as Grandma would say, my Mom is my best friend, and so I'm hoping to spend more Sundays with her. (Little does she know!)

I think Grandma would like that, don't you?