Generations

Christopher cracked us up last night. We were headed upstairs to take baths and as soon as we walked into the bathroom, he saw the bathtub and started squealing and wiggling and jumping - obviously thrilled to get back in the bathtub to practice his newly aquired skill: SPLASHING! The older boys put up with the constant bombardment of water coming from Christopher because he's such an entertainment to watch while he batters the water with all his might.

As I was watching him with total enjoyment last night, my mind immediately flipped over to Grandma. The thought went through my mind that one time, 95 years ago, her mom was watching her splash in her bathwater as well. It's hard for me to picture Grandma as a little baby, but I know that she was one once. These thoughts made me project into the future and I wondered what Christopher would be like, should God grant him 95 years of life. I'm thankful for Christopher's incessant splashing in the tub because no one realized that there were tears flowing at the same time. I was allowing myself the comfort of remembering all the wonderful times I have had with Grandma in my forty years of knowing her.

• Kneeling next to the kitchen counter on her metal and vinyl chairs waiting for her to "paint" the cookies so I could put the little candy balls on top.
• Watching her unwrap Grandpa's damp shirts and then putting a hot iron on them, making the steam cause her to sweat, but not stopping the humming.
• Listening to Little Marcy records when we were supposed to be napping.
• Playing Boggle with Grandma, but knowing that none of us had a chance to win against her!
• Hearing her special little "hum" that she had when she was yawning.
• Watching her water all her plants on the ledge in the livingroom.
• Being allowed to spray her perfume on her one night before we left for church.
• Sitting outside on the steps with all the cousins eating out of colored bowls.
• Having her scrub at the spot on my arm that she insisted was dirty, but I knew it was just a patch of very freckled skin.
• Hearing her call me everyone else's name and telling her, "Grandma, my name is Martha!"
• Being amazed that she had so many aprons that she wore when she was in the kitchen.
• Her delicious bean salad, sesame seed cookies, cabbage in tomato sauce, mashed potatoes, rhubarb pie, etc.
• Being called Shotzi (or however you spell it) and being asked Vass is sloss? (I have NO idea how to spell that, but we heard it often!!)
• We were told nema visha when there wasn't anything left for us to eat.
• Chuti! That was the one we heard the most. Be quiet!
• Hearing her response to peoples' "How are you?" She always said, "I'm thankful." She told me that there was always someone in the world that was worse off than she was, so why shouldn't she be thankful?

Oh, I could go on and on with all the precious memories that I have of Grandma, but I don't have the time or the emotional capacity to list them right now. What I know is that I am thankful that she had touched my life in such profound ways that I'm sure she never even knew. She may be here for only a short time yet, but her touch on our lives will never be able to be erased. The generations in my family are shifting, but the heritage that has been given to us will be passed on to future generations.

Thank you, Grandma. I love you.