I remember folding laundry.
I remember sitting on your bed while you got ready, and you explained why you couldn't wear perfume when you volunteered at the hospital.
I remember you washing my hair, and me covering my eyes with a washcloth to keep the soap out.
I remember how the jets in your tub both excited and terrified me.
I remember seeing your dentures in a cup in the bathroom.
I remember you telling me one morning that I had fallen out of bed without waking up, so you just picked me up and put me back.
I remember eating baked beans with Spencer at your kitchen table. I don't know if I liked them then, but I don't like them now.
I remember how you always boiled carrots.
I remember finding ants in a package of crackers.
I remember us always eating salads in wooden bowls.
I remember how you always had homemade bread, just like Mama.
I remember baking cookies with you. I remember Grandpa eating them, sometimes in the middle of the night. Did you know he did that?
I remember the kitchen shaking whenever you turned the garburator on.
I remember playing store with cans and pretend food.
I remember you reading "The Three Billy-Goats Gruff", and doing the best troll voice ever.
I remember when you tried to write down the address displayed on the TV screen when I was at your house and really wanted to write to "TVO Kids".
I remember you bopping around and dancing, teasing me that time I had a song stuck in my head and kept humming it.
I remember how funny you sounded when I sang next to you in church.
I remember sleeping in and using "It's early in Victoria" as an excuse. You just responded with, "You're not in Victoria."
I remember fishing lint out of the dryer.
I remember when I wore a thick sweater, toque, and scarf when we left to go home, and you said I looked like I was going to Finland.
I remember that time when you visited us in Austria, and we were on the back patio. You asked if I had homework and I told you that Mama was still trying to figure out what the assignment was.
I remember reading devotions with you and Grandpa every morning.
I remember the fresh wreaths you sent us every Christmas.
I remember you telling me about how Papa used to scrunch his toes up to let the ants go by.
I remember you teaching me how to make a bed properly. I remember it every time I make a bed.
I remember the Japanese things around your house.
I remember picking tomatoes from your garden to eat with lunch or supper.
I remember your laugh; kind of cackle-like. I remember your whole face smiling. Sometimes when Papa laughs, I'm reminded of you.
I remember those photo albums, old yearbooks, and report cards you kept.
I remember that cot that I got to sleep on sometimes. I thought it was comfortable.
I remember how it felt whenever you'd kiss my cheek.
I remember how you smelled; kind of like roses.
I will always cherish those summers at the cottage, especially getting to use the water pump and swim in that glorious lake (even if I did get a leech stuck on my toe once). I'll also remember the outhouses that I did almost anything to avoid.
I'm grateful for the time I got to spend with you and Grandpa. I'm grateful for our chats on the phone and our cards and letters exchanged in the mail. I'm grateful for you.
I remember you and I'll always remember you. No matter how old I get, you will always be my Grandma Mac. Grandpa will always be my Grandpa Mac. I love you, and I'll see you again.
Love, forever your granddaughter,
Morrigan
