When I started researching my family's history, I was surprised at the realization that I was only 4 years old when Grandma Ada died. I thought I was a few years older than that because I had and have very specific memories of her.
Unfortunately, I don't know the Grandma Ada my sisters and brothers did.
"My" Grandma Ada lived in an apartment, and the toys were kept in a closet somewhere off the living room. I remember rummaging around the closet and finding some fabulous toy. She loved Oreos and Pepsi, and apple pie and whatever type of ice cream she had in the freezer.
I have 2 very clear memories of her. The first is that she would always bring homemade baked bread with her when she visited us. And on those visits, she would choose one of the grandkids to get a "special" small loaf of bread. Once, I remember being the "chosen one," and it was if I was given gold. The best part? We didn't have to share it with any of our siblings.
I also remember standing behind her when she was making me a blanket. It was a pink floral flannel material with pink ribbon on 2 sides and either green or yellow ribbon on the other 2 sides. I distinctly remember watching her work at her sewing machine, trying to watch her over her shoulder and being so excited that this was mine. It was soft, and it smelled good. I had it for a very long time, and then I grew up and forgot about it. I have no idea what happened to it but realized too late that it was priceless to me. She was and is priceless to me.
Grandma Ada and me, 06 Aug 1969
Special people work their ways into our memories, even when we're young. I have very vivid memories of my Pa-paw (my mom's mom), even though I was only 3 or 4 when he died...and I treasure those memories I have.
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