It seems like Grandma Frantz (98) is immortal. The feeling only grows each time I walk into her room and find her looking dead. At first it bothered me, but now I say, “Yoo-hoo, anyone home? Yoo-hoo!” She usually stirs a bit before mustering a faint, “I am. I’m here.” However, it is becoming more apparent each week that she is fading and death is nearing. I hope her last days can be a reward, a gift. Thus, for her I’ve started Project Memory Lane. I asked Grandma to open her eyes as I held up the old work of art. It was a large quilt of dolls she had made in 1942 for her only child, my mother. Twelve dolls had been carefully stitched, each on its own white block framed in pink. “Isn’t it magnificent, Grandma?” I asked. “Sure is. That’s something to remember.” Grandma Frantz looked at each square. “That’s so pretty. I love that.” “You made it!” I continued “Are you sure about that?” she wondered. I nodded. Fingering the 1942 she had stitched carefully into the boarder of the quilt long ago, she said, “I’m glad you saved it all these years.” “I am, too.” I folded the quilt and set it near her chair so the memory could linger longer.
Posted on: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 15:33:01 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015