Where The Story Ends

We were hunting for a potato salad recipe tonight and it only seemed natural that we turn to the cookbook of my Grandma's recipes. The summer after she died, my mom and her siblings all worked hard to collect, organize and transcribe the hard-to-read cards from Grandma's box of recipes. They made a really lovely book, had it bound and everything, and sent it out to all of us.

I was stunned at the sheer volume and variety of jello-based salads. There are also a ton of things I just don't remember her making but I'm thrilled to find them now. Seeing her handwriting is just so special.

On the cover is a picture that I took back in 1997, before Grandma got sick. She's sitting in the Lazy Boy chair in the den of the house I grew up in, smiling and propping up her head a little. It's how I think of her, that picture. I think of her happy and not in much pain.

So I love that it's the cover.

Val was sitting with us as we searched (in vain, as it turns out) for a potato salad recipe. She asked who that was, we told her it's her Great-Grandma. After a time, Val said 'I love you, Great-Grandma!'

With quiet tears in my eyes, I said Val, she loves you too.

The date on the cover of the book is 2005. I looked at that date and I thought, that's the year her story ended. But then I realized, that's just not true. Grandma's story continues today, with every tear my family and I shed thinking of the loss we feel, with every smile at the memories of her with her coffee cup, playing cards at the breakfast table. Her story continues every time I sit down in what used to be her chair, every time Val sits on our porch in the metal rocking chair that used to be on Grandma's porch.

Her story continues, in a way, in this little girl who bears her name. And I know without a doubt, that wherever Grandma has gone to, that from that place, yes indeed she loves Val too.