A few weeks ago I had lunch with some of my cousins, one of which I hadn’t seen since I was a little girl--what a gift it was to catch up! Our common bond was my Gramma Huber and in the days following our lunch, memories of her flooded my mind.

She didn’t have an easy life. As a little girl, I remember thinking it wasn’t fair that my Grandma Cummins seemed to be living the life of Riley while my Gramma Huber struggled in every aspect of her life.  

I never knew my Grandfather Huber when he was well. I can only remember him sitting in his chair, unable to do anything on his own, relying on Gramma to meet his every need 24/7. 

My mom often said how much she wished I could have known my grandfather before he got sick. My mom’s parents had been close to my dad’s parents, so she knew and loved him well and thought he was one of the funniest people she’d ever met.

When my grandfather first started showing signs of his illness, he would wander out of the house, sometimes forgetting how to get home. After he wandered out one night, my gramma called my dad to come help her find him.

Shortly after my dad arrived, my grandfather strolled in.

My gramma tore into him, “Clifford! Where in the world have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“Tomcatting around,” he answered with a smile.

My dad roared with laughter. He loved that story. 

After my grandfather died, I spent many nights at Gramma’s house. It seemed she was always on a diet. I told her that once you're a Gramma you shouldn’t have to worry about your weight. 

“When I become a gramma, I’m gonna eat whatever I want and not care one whit how fat I get.”

She laughed, “Oh, you’ll care.” 

And, of course she was right.

I remember her sitting in her chair with a little mirror, plucking her whiskers.

“Why do you think you grew those whiskers?” I’d ask.

“Just wait. You’ll grow them, too.”

I highly doubted that. Not only was my other grandma living on easy street, I was sure she didn't have any whiskers either. It just wasn’t fair!

In spite of her tough life, my gramma laughed easily and often and I never doubted she delighted in my company, and I delighted in hers. She was a wonderful gramma and I have her to thank for raising my beloved dad to be the most loving husband and father a girl could ever ask for. I just wished I’d soaked up more of her hard earned wisdom, I wish I knew more about what made her the strong, faithful woman she was. 

I read a post on Facebook today that perfectly captures what I’m feeling today.

“When the elderly die, a library is lost and volumes of wisdom and knowledge are gone.”

Sad, but so powerfully true.