I envy the relationship that you had with your grandma, it sounds like she was strong and sweet and radiated unconditional love of which you were the lucky recipient. I didn't have anything like that in my life, but I take comfort and joy in reading your story. Thank you Wade.
Me too. I had a grandpa who was similar to Grandma Shipman, I think. He was taken from this world way too soon. I was barely school age when he passed. Now I try to hear his voice by writing him into scenes. I only started this fairly recently inspired by how Wade injects his Grandmother into his writing.
As a child I was picked in due to my religion and my health that. My safe place was the fire scape. I would sit there and listen to neighbors cantor and clothes blowing on the line. It was my world.
My brother and I used to watch all the holiday TV specials when I was younger, but it wasn’t the same watching them alone. When I was 12 or 13 my older brother moved out of the house his senior year of high school. After that the holidays became rather depressing with just me and my parents. They didn’t much like me at the time, nor each other. I was a cranky mood teenage girl. (hehe 😆). There was love, but you had to dig for it as Laura said above. I mean really dig. Over the past few years me and the wife have started our own traditions. From Iceland we pilfered Yule book flood (Icelandic: Jólabókaflóðið) where we exchange books and chocolate on Christmas Eve, then spend the evening reading. This year we’ve been able to share the tradition with friends who’ve become chosen family. Giving my friend’s grandson a little piece of chocolate and the book, “The Day My Fart Followed Me Home,” was the best.
Ugly is in the eye of the beholder. We had a family dog which was part Shepard and Airedale. She was a 3 on the scale 1-10 of cuteness. We loved that dog. Her name was Cocoa.
It was a hard holiday season this year. We can go home again, but it will be different. It can't be "the way it was.". I have found you have to dig deep and take the most precious memories, people and traditions, and CHOOSE to keep them alive. It can't be the same, but pieces can stay with a fresh twist. Charlie Brown can still play, you watch with those in your life you love today, and eat the sugar cookies in memory of the ones that created the tradition. This was beautiful. Thank you
I envy the relationship that you had with your grandma, it sounds like she was strong and sweet and radiated unconditional love of which you were the lucky recipient. I didn't have anything like that in my life, but I take comfort and joy in reading your story. Thank you Wade.
Me too. I had a grandpa who was similar to Grandma Shipman, I think. He was taken from this world way too soon. I was barely school age when he passed. Now I try to hear his voice by writing him into scenes. I only started this fairly recently inspired by how Wade injects his Grandmother into his writing.
Beautiful!! ❤️
As a child I was picked in due to my religion and my health that. My safe place was the fire scape. I would sit there and listen to neighbors cantor and clothes blowing on the line. It was my world.
🤗🤗🤗
My brother and I used to watch all the holiday TV specials when I was younger, but it wasn’t the same watching them alone. When I was 12 or 13 my older brother moved out of the house his senior year of high school. After that the holidays became rather depressing with just me and my parents. They didn’t much like me at the time, nor each other. I was a cranky mood teenage girl. (hehe 😆). There was love, but you had to dig for it as Laura said above. I mean really dig. Over the past few years me and the wife have started our own traditions. From Iceland we pilfered Yule book flood (Icelandic: Jólabókaflóðið) where we exchange books and chocolate on Christmas Eve, then spend the evening reading. This year we’ve been able to share the tradition with friends who’ve become chosen family. Giving my friend’s grandson a little piece of chocolate and the book, “The Day My Fart Followed Me Home,” was the best.
Ugly is in the eye of the beholder. We had a family dog which was part Shepard and Airedale. She was a 3 on the scale 1-10 of cuteness. We loved that dog. Her name was Cocoa.
It was a hard holiday season this year. We can go home again, but it will be different. It can't be "the way it was.". I have found you have to dig deep and take the most precious memories, people and traditions, and CHOOSE to keep them alive. It can't be the same, but pieces can stay with a fresh twist. Charlie Brown can still play, you watch with those in your life you love today, and eat the sugar cookies in memory of the ones that created the tradition. This was beautiful. Thank you