Thursday, June 6, 2013

Act 3; Scene 50: Remembering

Today is my grandparent's 66th wedding anniversary. Tonight my grandpa is taking the family out to his favorite spot, Golden Corral, to commemorate. My grandmother passed away just over a year ago, and since arranging this little anniversary celebration tonight, I have been thinking of her today.


I remember how much she loved her family. She framed pictures of her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and stuck them in every nook and cranny in her perfectly kept, 1960s style  living room.

I remember her letting us get into her pots and pans, cookie sheets and muffin pans to make "dinner," which we then served to her and any other adult around, course by course (they were always very large "meals" with LOTS of desserts).

I remember playing jewelry store with all of Grandma's fancy jewelry. She would come into my store (aka, the kitchen table), look at my display, and purchase jewelry from me. Over and over and over.

I remember helping her bring in all of the plastic flowers and yard doo-das when rain threatened.

I remember helping her rake up all of the sticks and apples that had fallen to the ground after the said storm (and I mean EVERY stick and EVERY apple).

I remember Grandma teaching me to play her organ in the back room, and singing along with the 1940s songs she taught me to play. I also remember her singing to her 1940s music program on the radio on Friday nights.

I remember Grandma letting me slice the boiled eggs with the cool egg slicer for the potato salad.

I remember Grandma making special "plain" jello with cool whip just for my brothers, since they didn't like all of the "stuff" in her jello.

I remember Grandma telling us about the time when she was telling my dad the story of Peter Rabbit for bedtime, and she was so tired that instead of the farmer catching Peter Rabbit, she said, "And here came Tarzan." She and Dad would laugh and laugh about that story.

I remember when Grandma couldn't quite remember what she had said, and would say over and over, "You're doing alright?" and, "I love you, it's good to hear from you."

I remember the last Christmas that she was able to come down to Salt Lake she came to our Christmas concert that has become a tradition. She watched me sing and listened with a big smile on her face the whole time.

I remember that same Christmas as she was getting in the wheelchair to go back home she started crying and said, "Don't remember me like this."

Don't worry, Grandma. What I remember is how memorable you made my childhood. All of the fun that we had together playing make believe. Your kindness and generosity towards us. Your love for all of us.

Happy Anniversary, Grandma and Grandpa McFarland.


  1. Those last two bullet points made me cry! Aren't grandparents such a blessing. Nice post

  2. Thank you, Carson.
    Sweet, sweet memories.