My parents are visiting me this weekend to participate in a family reunion for the maternal side of our family. As the sole, surviving matriarch of the J. clan, Mom will be missing the physical presence of her three brothers and three sisters who have passed on, but she will certainly be enjoying the company of their children. I will be enjoying their company, too! (My cousins are cool.)
On Sunday we plan to read some excerpts from my grandma's handwritten autobiography and share some of our favorite memories about her. I can't wait to find out if my cousins remember her as vividly as I do and whether our memories are similar or whether we perceived her differently.
Of course, we don't remember her like this.
But the handsome guy in this photograph does.
(Sadly, Grandpa J. died when my mom was only 10, but he and Grandma have been together again for many years.)
One of the best things of all is that every one my children is able to be here but the youngest, who couldn't get away from his studies and laboratory duties in Arizona. (We miss ya, Todd!) My grandkids spent most of the day in the pool, and we had one of those perfect, late-summer days, complete with full moon, pizza, and a trip to the
magic tree. You know I'm in heaven.
And so are they!
(The magic tree is big stuff.)
And yet, the nicest thing that's happened to me so far has nothing to do with any of that. The very nicest thing came in the form of a handmade gift from my mother. Despite the ever-present pain in her fingers, she crocheted me a washcloth for my face, one which I will never use.
Sorry, mom.
It seems that some things are just too precious to be used
for anything so ordinary as washing a face.
When that happens, you simply keep them for the treasures they are.