Twirling

I wonder now, looking at this photo, if all that dancing in the kitchen really started at some point with my Grandma Rita. When my dad's parents would come stay with us one of the best moments was always getting to twirl with Grandma Rita in the morning. We'd still be in our pajamas and would wait our turns to dance and do twirls. As you can see in the picture, Hoody (Steve) was right behind me waiting for his moment to be a ballerina, too. All he was missing was the matching nightie.

There are very specific memories that come to mind when I think of being little with Grandma Rita. Like how she held her curved paring knife to peel an apple with the skin curling into one long strand. I know it's silly but I can picture her hands exactly. I loved going to their house on McCook Lake where we'd eat apples and watch the squirrels come up to the top patio and eat the bread we had set out for them.

And better than the apples were her german pancakes with warm applesauce. I honestly think her home is the only place I've ever eaten them, but I'm convinced they only tasted as good as they did because we ate them off of her special red and white china she and Grandpa had bought on a trip to Germany. I felt so special and grown up eating our breakfast together at her table. She has a way of making the little things seem like a big deal, and yet if you tell her how great she is she'll wave you away with her hand as though you've gone on about her for an hour already. Humble and loving and a wonderful twirler. All the ingredients for a fantastic lady.

Today is Grandma's birthday, and I'd give anything to show up at her doorstep and do a couple twirls with her... but she'll just have to settle for these memories of mine. Sending lots of warm wishes and good memories your way, Grandma... we all love you!