Back at the end of April, my maternal grandmother passed away at the age of 93. "Gammy" was someone who I didn’t see much as I grew up. She lived all the way in Idaho. I think I visited them less than a dozen times before I gained my majority. The longest "visit" was when my parents sent me out to work on my uncle’s farm for the summer. She was always this short, solid woman who crocheted numerous afghans for the family. She had that down-to-earthness, which I came to appreciate as I grew up. Of course, the funniest memory of Gammy is that she always mixed up The Brother’s and my names, to the point that she "autocorrected" anytime she addressed one of us. And the few times she got it right, she would correct, and then recorrect herself. As I got older, we discussed the issues of the day and general day to day life.

Exactly two months later, my paternal grandmother passed away at the age of 95. Because she lived in Okeechobee, we saw a lot more of her. A lot of holidays, long weekends, etc. There were a couple of times my folks sent me down on the train to visit them all by myself. Grandma was a devout Baptist and very active in her church. This led to many discussions on the state of my soul. After she lost her husband, son, stepfather, and mother in about 18 months, Grandma moved out to Oklahoma to be closer to my aunt. Visits became infrequent – although there was the time The Brother and I drove out to surprise her for her birthday. She and I had weekly calls for the last couple of years. It was mostly her listening to the events of my week, but I enjoyed our visits.

I am grateful that The Wife had the chance to get to know both of them. I will miss them both dearly.