When my Grandma Helen passed away, I wished that I had known her better, that I could have spent more time with her, and gotten to know who she was – what she was really like. I had so many memories of her, but they seemed small. I remember the smell of her house and the feel of her kitchen chairs I would sit at while she and my mother moved around the kitchen, preparing glass jars of home-made zucchini relish, or tins full of chocolate covered peanut butter balls. She helped me pick out a crochet hook and taught me how to crochet. When the 50 States quarters began rolling out, she would collect two of each state for my brother and I.
I used to think that my memories were too small or insignificant. That there was so much of her that I never got to know. I realize now though, that these memories are more than just moments, but pieces that are representative of a whole. Pieces of a generous and caring woman who loved to be busy and loved her family.