I was in college and having a rough go trying to juggle classes, full time work and being pseudo mom to my boyfriend’s young daughter. We’d had a family pizza night at grandmas relatively recently and Id shared a little about feeling overwhelmed, and as always she gave me a big hug and told me “not to worry sugar, it’ll all work out. It’s only temporary so keep your head up.”

About a week later she called and asked me if I would like to go with her to get a pedicure with her nail lady. She of course played it off casually and said “she was due for a visit and would appreciate the company.” A few days later I picked her up and we went to a sweet tiny salon where the woman was clearly an old friend. The salon owner pulled out a small home-care style kit for pedicures (I swear she just did it for grandma and it wasn’t a regular offering), and a zip lock bag of nail polishes for us to choose from. Grandma had stuffed a few werthers in her bag and slyly handed me a couple. She unwrapped one and popped it in her mouth before winking at me and selecting her color (pearly white). She asked how I was doing and just listened calmly to my yammering as we soaked our feet. Never trying to fix anything, she offered kind things to say about persevering, or finding redeeming qualities in places where I was stuck dwelling in frustration. She’d intermittently hold my hand or put an arm on my back in comfort and just listened.

When we finished our spa moment, I sprang up to pay, only to find out grandma had paid for our visit long before we arrived.

In that few hours spent together she made me feel so seen and supported and wholly loved just by being there and listening.

This woman. She has always been something special ❤️ -Dawn

I feel like, of everyone, I've probably spent the least one-on-one time with grandma, so mine likely wont be as deep or meaningful as others, but I have a few smaller stories to share.

The first time Dawn was left alone to babysit, I made a whoopsie, panicked, and called grandma (sobbing) and asked her to come over, which of course she did without hesitation. I'd dropped a full glass of milk in the upstairs hallway and the carpet was soaked, I was sure it was ruined and I was going to be in so much trouble. When grandma got here and found out why I'd called, she'd laughed at how I was "literally crying over spilled milk!" and helped clean it with a towel. She immediately made it no big deal and put me at ease, and stayed with us for the night to keep me mellow (even though Dawn was hurt that I'd taken away her opportunity to show how responsible and mature she was.)

When grandma stayed with us for a few months during chemo when I was in elementary school, I remember spending afternoons on the pull out bed watching soap operas with her and cuddling with our pet bunnies.

Going out with her first thing in the morning to wait in line in front of shops for the new Ty beanie baby releases.

One holiday (Christmas or Thanksgiving, I'm sure) I came back from the bathroom to show Dawn (who was sitting next to grandma on the couch under our stairs) that I'd just put my thumbnails straight through the lace of my underwear making two giant holes. Dawn, scandalized, said "You just flashed grandma your butt!" And grandma, without missing a bit jumped in with, "Do you know many times I've seen and wiped that butt?!"

A few years ago, not long after Kristen passed, Marina and I went over to grandmas and we all spent an afternoon going through old pictures together, she shared memories of time in Iowa and the back stories of pictures I hadn't seen before.

When I found out she liked Doctor Who and we started talking about characters and she shared how much she loves "the gay one" (Captain Jack Harkness) because he's "a hottie".

Some funny comments about Grandpa George on the video chat with Connie, Kellye and I the other night, and hearing her talk about bringing Connie home from the hospital and how tiny she was and that she could fit her in a shoe box.

For me, the prevailing thing with grandma isn't necessarily any specific/big memories, but rather what a collected lifetime of small, seemingly insignificant moments mean to me. She has been the embodiment of unconditional love and support, not through any major action or by ever having had to express it, it's just laced through every word and action. Genuine, unfaltering, love. - Carli

Ahh, my favorite memories of grandma are a small collection from the time I lived with her— fried eggs, potatoes and zucchini from the garden. The time Anthony came for a visit and we blocked her into the garage on accident when she had a doctors appointment— we were promptly chewed out for that. Maybe the only time I’ve genuinely seen grandma upset, at me anyway. All the moments I’ve heard her swear, because it sounds so silly coming from her mouth, or learning that the way/lense in which we view the world, the country and the way it operates, or should operate, so closely aligns. All the times she’s called me sugar, and all the love and support she’s offered with no expectations attached. The way she just breathes sunshine and love into everything she touches, the way she’s welcomed everyone into her home, friends of ours, strangers to her, those who have transgressed against her, and those she loves. The way she’s allowed those of us who have chosen to march to the beat of our own drum the space to do so— without judgement or trying to tell us what we should do differently. My favorite part of, and memory with grandma is everything she is, and everything she’s about and just the way she moves through and the mark she’s left on the world. ❤️ -Marina