Final Memories

There is a very strong possibility that I need to make one last visit up to see my Grandmother in Wyoming. This summer is possibly her last in her home & I don't want to have any feelings of guilt that I didn't visit enough once she passes away. Also, I need a new 'final memory'.

We all have final memories. They aren't necessarily the memories of your last moments with a loved one or old friend, but they are formed during your final times together. Visiting my grandma creates final memories of walking around her farm, swinging one last time on the home-made swing that my grandfather built, walking down to the little post office to pick up her mail & photographing all the little details of her life. Details like the flocked (aka fuzzy) wallpaper in her bathroom (Wallpaper that has been there since the house was built in the early 1900s), the playhouse my grandfather built when my dad was a child , the tulips she tended while I was a baby living just down the street, the medicine cabinet in the spare bedroom off the garage that still contains the bottle of asprin that expired in April 1987. All those things and many more create my memories of Grandma's house.

But one more trip must be made. One that must be eventful. ANY kind of eventful. Something to create a new final memory that will erase the one I have right now.

Because my final memory of my sweet, frail, blind grandmother is of her saying "Goodmorning!" to me as I entered the kitchen and reaching out for my elbow only to get a full handful of my left breast instead.

I wonder what it is about my left breast that makes it so popular.



Ms.B