A long, long time ago, my parents got divorced. I was 11, turning 12 when my dad and I moved in with my grandma during the week. (I stayed with my mom on the weekends.) Although it sucked to have my parents split up, I got a wonderful opportunity to live with my grandma for just over a year before she passed away.
My grandma and I always had a special connection. I was her only granddaughter. Our birthdays were only 2 days apart. Well, 54 years and 2 days. In fact, the 31st anniversary of her passing is this month.
So many things pop into my head when I think of my grandma. I remember her grape juice. She always had a small juice glass with just a little grape juice in it. And she would sit at her dining room table with her elbows propping her arms up to a triangle where her hands met. One hand holding the other, which had a lit cigarette in it. It was the early 80s. Everyone still smoked. [click to continue…]
I used to not like the flavor of pumpkin at all. I didn’t even start eating pumpkin pie until I was in my late teens. Even then, I only liked it for the whip cream.
As I’ve gotten older, I have liked the taste more and more. But truth be told, I think what I really like is the pumpkin pie spice taste. The pumpkin is fine. And I think the pumpkins themselves are awesome. I would have them all over my house if I didn’t have a two year old that would think they were for throwing. [click to continue…]