She made everything special for me and made me feel like I was very special to her. When I was with her, I was comfortable and accepted. I could be silly with her. She always had a smile on her face and love in her heart. I could truly be me.
One year after my Dad died, Mom let me spend a whole month with her and Grandpa at their home in Phoenix. Grandma was very active in her church and had so many activities with her friends. Between those and chores around the house I was kept very busy!
One day we went to an ice cream social ... such a rare thing these days. In fact, I believe the only time I've ever been to one since was at a ladies event at my church.
She and I put together a scrapbook to remember the summer by. In her beautiful cursive handwriting she wrote 'Carolyn's Summer Scrapbook'.
Grandma bought me a little set of notecards with donkeys on them. She and I wrote letters back and forth to each other. It was in this that I learned the love for letter writing.
Our family has property out in Cuyama, California. When Grandpa retired, he and Grandma moved out there. It is a very rustic cabin but a place full of beauty and peace. I was able to spend a lot of time with them there over the years. I ate my first quesadilla there ... a flour tortilla fried in oil, then covered in cheese that was melted in the oven.
When Grandma died, I was given many little treasures ... this cream pitcher is one of them.