Through the Looking Glass

I got the call a couple hours ago that my grandma Alice died. I took for granted that she would always be around, as I did with all my grandparents (and my only grandma left, Pat). I am so sorry to say that for the last month I thought of her every day and didn't call her for one (silly) reason or another. She was such a good grandma. She was imaginative and creative. I hope I will always have these memories related to her:

*calling me "Mikatchie," my way of repeating when she called me "My Katie" (she called me that when I saw her about a month ago)
*eating yoplait yogurt and bananas at her house
*starting my sleepovers in the guest room, but crawling in bed with her to sleep
*riding in her red VW beetle
*the smell of her lotion (Vasaline brand) and her use of Vasaline as lip moisturizer
*watching her file her nails and paint them with clear polish
*going grocery shopping with her, riding in the bottom of the cart munching on triscuits while she shopped
*hunting for easter eggs in her backyard
*picking raspberries in her backyard
*stepping on a rusty nail on her deck and having to get a tetanus shot
*taking me to the dentist to get a tooth pulled and rewarding me for being good by buying me a nail polish
*rocking me on the chair in her dining room
*choking on a butterscotch candy in her kitchen
*the violins and starfish hanging on the wall above her couch
*watching Purple Rain late at night in her living room when I knew I shouldn't (I was like 8)
*taking a bath at her house with empty food containers as toys
*her buying me a Cabbage Patch doll (the only thing I wanted for christmas) when they were sold out, telling me her boyfriend worked at a CP factory, and that's how she got it
*she bought me rice cereal to feed my CP doll (it was the kind with a pacifier, so it had a hole for a mouth), and let me cram the cereal in the hole, dig it out with a toothpick, and repeat the process for what seemed like an hour
*the Pound Puppies she got me "from behind the door in a little shop where I heard these whiney little puppies that nobody wanted"
*Christmas at her house with the whole family when they lived in MN
*being locked out of her house (to give her and my mom a break) with my cousin. We decided to run away because we were mad, but only went around the block because we didn't know where to go.
*riding on my "big blue tennis shoe" - a plastic shoe on wheels - in her driveway, and running it into the garage door
*her beige floor pillows that seemed so huge to me when I laid on them
*having a tooth pulled on her deck, and it fell through a crack to the ground beneath
*the neighbors behind her house had an above-ground pool that we swam in
*going to the Mankato library with her

I feel like I remember so much more about her, but I can't think of them now.

I really liked how she would make up fun stories about the gifts she gave me, just to make them a little more special (it worked!). I also liked hearing her tell the same stories to me over and over, as if I had never heard them before. Sometimes I think some of my memories of her aren't really memories, but the stories that she told so often that they became real to me. She was always so kind to me, no matter what rediculous stage I was in in my life. She loved me no matter what. She supported my marriage to Chris when most people didn't, even going as far as giving me her wedding rings. I am so sad we spent the last few years living so far apart, but I am glad for her that she did all the adventurous things she wanted to do: sailing between California and Hawaii, learning to ski (I think when she was over 50), and travelling all over the US whenever she wanted. She was also a great artist, regularly winning awards with her paintings. There are things about her I will never know, and wish I could. What I do know about her, I love.

I am honored to have been named after her.