My Grandma Jane rocked. She was sassy, outspoken, brash, and overly compassionate. Doesn’t sound familiar at all, does it? ;-)
There were closets full of sweeping silky gowns, bedroom high heels, and real fur coats. We could dress up in anything we wanted to as long as it wasn’t in HER closet. Oh, the things I used to wear when we were at her house. (My cousin and I even got into her make up one year. Boy did we pay the price for THAT faux pas!)
She played organ at her church and had an organ in her living room on which she practiced. You know what that meant, right? We got to practice too. She would casually give us lessons too.
One of the songs our Grandma Jane loved this time of year was Silver Bells.
We would sit next to her at the organ as she played, watching every place her lithe fingers would land. Then it would be our turn. We would try our best to imitate her but all we could ever eek out would be Chopin.
This Christmas, every time Silver Bells plays, I am reminded instantly of my Grandma Jane. So I pause. In that moment, I feel the joy of sitting next to her at the organ, drinking in her perfume (remember Charlie?), her living room aglow in Christmas lights, delicious smells wafting from the kitchen, her perfume, and laughter of all the family members roaming about the house. In that moment, my heart is happy once again with her memory.
Then the song ends.
And I, I am left all alone until the next time the song is played.
I miss and love you, Grandma Jane.
This one’s for you: