ODE TO MY GRANDMOTHER
I have written so often about my Grandfather, but my Grandmother, Isabelle, was so important in my life as well. Today is her Yahrzeit — in Judaism, the anniversary of the death of a parent or close relative. She died two days after her 71st wedding anniversary and two months before I found out I would be getting the house I had been patiently waiting for. This was what I read at her funeral in 2013 and I thought it would be a nice way to remember her aloud today. She deserves the remembrance.
Dear Grandma,
I am at your house with a cup of coffee, sitting in the chair outside the kitchen window in the screened in patio by the pool, feet up, writing. The familiar place that I am always in when I visit because I am almost always up before you and grandpa when I am here.
I sip my coffee. It is not the coffee that you prepared the night before that would be ready because it was on auto timer- hazelnut regular, your mix. No, this is a keurig cup of coffee, which I bought for grandpa to make it a little easier for his morning ritual without you.
Did you know your bright yellow coffee maker went kaput after the last pot you made for Grandpa? Of course it did, but you had a back up so grandpa didn’t have to spend 35$ to buy another one. Besides he has the Keurig now which, by the way, makes only a 6 oz cup of coffee. Did you know that…
