Aug 9

 Today is my Grandpa Roman's birthday - probably the only grandparent birthday I remember because it's so close to my own!

If you were here, Grandpa B, I bet little Roman would give you a big hug and help you blow out your birthday candles. When I was looking thru pictures, this was the one that stood out. Why? Because it's how I remember my Dad's parents -at their house (in their kitchen to be exact). Grandma B (Catherine) sometime before she had the stroke that slowed down her mobility. 

It brings up weird memories. Warm applesauce and a look to my mom like "what is this" and "do I have to eat it....it's WARM?" Like I said, random memories.  And 7up. They always had 7up at the ready, which was a treat. And we must have spent some overnights there because I do remember spending time with grandma, who'd take us outside and down to the park by the lake to that giant slide (still there, last I checked). I remember being so proud of myself for going down alone. She was also fond of books. I think I picked up on that.
And grandpa with his rides on the lawnmower. We couldn't get enough. We liked to "play" on the organ too, but that time was limited as well. I can kind of empathize with how you two must feel when we tell you "no", which admittedly is probably not enough. Roman was an artist and had what appeared to me an elaborate and professional working space in the basement. So many markers! I always wanted to draw there, but knew enough to know that was grown up space.  But I did draw. 4th grade seems to be the pinnacle for that activity, sometime around when Grandma had the stroke. I remember being told the compliments the hospital nurses gave her about her granddaughter's artwork (Snoopy, I would guess) That felt good (praise!). Maybe she'll be like her grandpa. Maybe.
And what I want to say kidlets is that I wasn't old enough or wise enough or mature enough to let my grandparents know I cared. But I forgive myself that. I don't think I really had my head screwed on right until I hit 30 and by then, they were gone. But I think they knew. I hope they knew. So here's my lesson for you two: it's never too late. Don't forget those that loved you. Never too late. Really.