*I really wanted to write today however the words didn't seem to come. So, in honor of what would have been my Grandma's 85th birthday I leave you with some Amazing Grace, Chris Tomlin style.*

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found
Was blind, but now I see

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace

Here is a link of Chris Tomlin playing and singing live. I can listen to this over and over and always sing.

"There is a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree that struggles to reach the sky." - Betty Smith

(my great-great grandmother Nellie. My love of reading seems to be inherited. LOVE it.)

When I was a little girl one of my favorite things to do was grab a book off of my grandma's bookshelf. One would think that I would grab a book and begin to read, but it was never that simple.

First, I would grab the book and then the fun would begin. I would take the book to my grandma and ask her about it. What is it about? Whose was it? Why does she have it? Has she read it? How many times? Should I read it? Will I like it? And the list goes on. As you may have guessed I was an inquiring child. I loved to talk, I loved to ask questions and I could do both for a long, long time - usually until someone asked me to stop or told me to go outside. However, when it came to her books my grandma was infinitely patient. She would answer my questions, no matter how many there were.

See, she was a reader. She understood. She always fostered a love of reading in me (and my dear cousins, most notably Lorinda with whom I have much in common).

When I look back on those times with my grandma I do so with gratitude. No book was ever off limits. No book too hard, too old, too anything. They were books and her idea was if I didn't like it/understand it/or even if I didn't posses the skills to read every word it was okay. I could either plow through, asking questions along the way or I could set it down and come back to it at a later time (Think about a seven or eight year old trying to read A Tale of Two Cities or East of Eden - YIKES).

One of my favorite memories of grandma was when I pulled a book off the shelf and brought it out and began my quest of knowledge with the seemingly never-ending questions. When I showed her the book she smiled and said it was perfect and that I would love it. I was about eight at the time and thrilled with her response. The book? A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. And I did love it.

The best part was that she said she wanted to read it with me. She knew it was beyond my reading level (just as A Tale of Two Cities was earlier) and she wanted me to enjoy the book so we spent the next few weeks reading it together. I would read aloud and she would read aloud. It was perfect. (Just thinking I haven't read this since high school, maybe it is time to take it off the shelf and give it another go. Splendid.)

Several years ago grandma gave me her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It is one of my favorite possessions. I cherish it, but most of all I cherish the memories. I miss my grandma everyday, holding tight to her memory and loving the lifelong gifts she has given me.

I love you Grandma! Thank you!

what we keep

So far this year has been very contemplative for me. Soul searching. A reminder of what is important. Who is important. The new year, mixed with high emotions from the end of last year and the hospitalization and death of my grandma have put me in an almost peaceful content mood (most of the time at least).After my grandma died her house needed to be gone through, of course. What a job. Emotional, exhaustive. How does one decide what to keep, what to toss, what to donate? Because it was only my aunt, uncle, and one cousin (the lovely Lorinda) we had to make decisions for the rest of the family. I believe we made good ones.

Of course most of the things in my grandparent's home are sentimental to us. But, what to keep? Obviously the person isn't their objects, objects not the person who owned them. However, there are certain items that can help bring us that feeling of a person. Remind us of them.
So, what did I keep? More than I expected to. A few things that are just things - a great, old Tupperware caddy and a vase that I don't ever remember seeing. A little metal figurine of a man in a barrel that I assume was my grandpa's. A necklace of my grandma's. However, those things aren't the things that stirred up my emotions.

So, what made my heart sing? What did I feel like I HAD to have?

Well...for starters Mark Twain up there. He always sat on a coffee table next to the shot glass stage coach. My grandpa had a collection of items from the McCormick Distilling Company. What is great is that Mark Twain's head comes off...he originally came full of bourbon.

And the toaster salt and pepper shakers (picture above). My grandma had a vast collection of salt and pepper shakers. Some were quite remarkable. When I was about 7 or 8 I bought her the toaster ones at an antique shop. If you lift the handle the toast pops up. I love them. Always have. Now they sit above my stove, not to be used, but to be loved. I also grabbed the Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox shakers that I bought her on a trip to Minnesota with my other grandpa.

She also wanted me to have her knitting needles. In the hospital I told her I was learning to knit. Even though she said I "have a long way to go" she was excited and insisted I take them. I will never have to buy knitting needles. I guess this means I need to continue with this hobby - at least long enough to knit purple scarves for me and my cousin! :)

There are a few other items I picked up, however the one I will treasure, that both Lorinda and I cradled in fear it may be damaged is the cookie jar. It would figure I would have a love of the cookie jar. When we walked in the house it wasn't sitting on it's spot on the counter. I was confused and I could see concern in Lorinda's eyes. I turned around to talk to my aunt and in seconds Lorinda comes to me cradling the bird and handed it over to me...makes me tear up thinking about it even now. I love the birdie cookie jar - I need to fill it with some oatmeal cookies soon, but most of all I love my grandma, I love my cousin. I love that I have a family so rich in blessings.

Have a great love week all! Enjoy!

Hi friends. I keep thinking I need to update this and I am just not feeling it.
Not at all.
On Saturday morning we lost my grandma. She was 84. She will be greatly missed. I don't really have much to say right now. The family is in the hustle and bustle of funeral arrangements. My cousin and I found a poem that was written for and read at my great-grandma's funeral (grandma's mom who died when she was very young), we are jointly going to read it (wish us luck!).

Here grandma is with a baby Archer. I love this picture because she is in full grandma mode, purple clothes and all (she LOVED, LOVED, LOVED purple).
This is all I have for now. I will be back later this week.