One of the tough aspects of having such a small family is that when one of them dies, the impact of the loss can be that much greater. With fewer people in the family, there are fewer relationships so the good ones can be extra meaningful. By no means am I saying that people in smaller families have better connections to their kin, but I am saying that we can value the good ones a little bit more.
My maternal grandmother passed away last Wednesday afternoon, just five days before my birthday. What's tough about this is I feel like I don't have as many memories of her as I should. Certainly distance played a role as I lived 1500 miles from her for the last 14 years. And there are other family tensions that have damaged relations as well.
But I'm not going to dwell on the pain and the disappointments, I'm trying to recall some of my better memories of her. So let's do that.
The Waterslide. I can't recall where this was, though I'm pretty sure it was in Williamsburg, VA. Ironic, considering I just moved thirty minutes from there. My mother, grandmother, and I stayed at a hotel with an outdoor pool. And this pool had a small twisting slide. I've always had an affinity for waterslides so I took advantage of this. My grandmother saw how much fun I was having and thought she'd get in on the action. She climbed up the stairs and turned around. She leaned back and started sliding. Backwards. I know it didn't go smoothly, she actually feel off and hit her neck and ankle on the edge of the pool. She was ok, but I guess that's a testament to her adventurous spirit.
I remember her taking me to Subway, for a foot long Italian, back when I thought that was a good sandwich. Obviously, that was forever ago. I also remember getting excellent pizza at Papa Gino's and I'd constantly feed the jukebox, playing Garth Brooks and Creedence songs.
My grandparents have lived in Connecticut as long as I've been alive. Specifically, they lived in Waterford, in the southeast corner of Connecticut. There are some nice little towns we went to: Groton, Mystic, and Old Saybrook to name a few. On a sidenote, I'm still wondering where the newer Saybrook is.
We even went camping when I was in my grade school years. My grandfather would drive the old trailer and I'd help him level it when we were ready to park. My grandmother would handle the trips and the food. I remember sitting by campfires in New Hampshire, riding a bike without training wheels for the first time in a Vermont forest, and eating ice cream in southern Maine.
I remember in later years when I was attending college north of Boston. Several times, I took an Amtrak from Boston to New London and they'd pick me up and let me stay with them for a couple of days. It gave me a little taste of my youth and I always appreciated that gesture.
What I'm most thankful for is that she had the idea for me to apply to and attend Wheaton Academy in suburban Chicago. Those two years I spent at that school changed me radically for the better, both as a person and as a Christian. So I will forever appreciate that moment.
Thank you Priscilla Bartlett, my grandmother, I appreciate the care and attention you gave me. You helped to shape me as a person for the better and I will always appreciate that. I just wish there were more good memories for us in the more recent years.
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