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.
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 each Keurig is .47 cents? Grandpa let me know this which is why the back up coffee pot came in so handy. As did the back up bags of coffee you have in your back up freezer.
As I sit outside in the September Florida heat, the temperature reading is almost 80 on the thermometer by the pool. I am waiting to hear your footsteps. The chimes on the grandfather clock go off letting me know it is too early to hear you yet, but you usually come bouncing out of your room, down the hall, fully dressed in your shorts, multi colored short sleeve shirt and Birkenstocks, toes usually painted from the pedicures you continued with after I got you hooked on them when you were 80.
“Did you get the paper?’ you would ask me because I usually forgot, then you would go to the front door and pick it up saying, “the girls next door, Marilyn, Marlene and Dawn are so nice, they always bring the paper to the front door for us.” Grateful in your tone, but always…