Memories of Gram

It was a sweet surprise when Grace, my grandma's first great grand-baby arrived on her birthday. She was 79 years old.


Gram passed away several weeks ago.


Every summer, my mom would drive us kids down to my grandparents house in San Diego. The same house she grew up in. They'd lived there forever. We'd be down there for a week and then my dad would join us for the second week of our vacation. I have lots of great memories from all the visits down there: going to the beach, the garage fridge stocked with soda, Yoo-Hoo and all our other favorites, Christmas' with extended family and billions of presents, playing bus and airplane for hours on the carpeted stairs leading up to the big room where we all slept, my grandpa's fountain out in the back yard, making orange juice from my grandma's orange trees, getting the six foot subs from the deli and making my dad lie down next to them so we could check if they were really six feet long or not. So many more too.


It's sad. And for some reason, losing my grandma makes me miss my dad all the more. Most of March was just very wearying. Thankfully, I serve a good God, the great Comforter.