A house filled with love - the basement

When I would stay with Grandma and Pa, I often found myself going downstairs to 'explore' the basement. It was such a fascinating part of their house--I can recall the musty smell by memory. I remember the old freezer and washer/dryer, a shelf filled with canned goods, the far wall that was built up with dirt, and, of course, Grandpa Barnetson's bedroom.

The bedroom was my fave place to hang out in the basement. There were boxes filled with a random collection of things - old clothes, books, some records....I loved to look through these and imagine how they were previously used.

I remember spending time in the bedroom with Lana--she was writing a novel at this time, you see. (At the tender age of 10, I think...) So she would write and I don't know what I did...probably watched her or read over her shoulder.

And now that I have a house of my own, a house that is probably as old as theirs (if not older), I sometimes get a 'whiff' of Grandma/Pa's basement smell. And it brings a smile to my face to remember the days of exploring...

Thanks to God for thoughtful people

Today's post isn't about Grandma, so much as it is about dealing with Grandma's death. It's been three months (tomorrow) and yet I still miss her with as much intensity as the moment she slipped away.

Over the past few days, I've been blessed by the thoughtfulness of others. One of Josh's family members joined us for lunch on Saturday, and before she left our house, quietly slipped me a card. In the bustle of cleaning up the kitchen, I forgot to open it, and it was left in the living room on our coffee table.

Yesterday, as my thoughts turned to how much I wanted to speak with Grandma, I remembered the card that Patti had left for me. Her card was extremely thoughtful - she included a poem (that I will post up here at a later date) that was so beautiful, and brought me to tears.

Today, again, when I was feeling low and looking at my picture of Grandma taped to my monitor, a colleague popped into my office with a small gift. She had seen it someplace and had, apparently, thought of me and bought it. She handed me the gift, a children's book, "Hello Grand Mamoon!" by Donna Steinmann. The book is about a young girl named Tula, who's Grandmother had recently died...and how she finds comfort in looking at the woman in the moon, knowing that her Grandma is watching over her.

Today, I give thanks for the thoughtful people in my life. I am fortunate that they would take the time to think of me in this way.