95

Today would have been my Gitrandma's 95th birthday. She died almost 20 years ago, on Christmas Eve.

(When I was a kid, my cousins and I used to sing "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer". We didn't sing it that year.)

This improperly-scanned picture was taken in September of 1994. Grandma was sick, but she was just beginning to notice symptoms. 

The picture was taken the day we celebrated my grandparents' 55th anniversary.

Earlier that year, I spent a week out at the farm with them. I helped them paint the kitchen and shampoo the carpets, and while I was there Grandma and I went through some of her old pictures.

There was one of her mother, who had moved to New York State in the 30s and ended up driving a bus. There were pictures of their old horses - Grandpa knew exactly what horses they were. There were her wedding pictures, and she told me that she and Grandpa got married in the afternoon even though they couldn't eat before hand (because at the time, you couldn't eat at all before receiving communion). They couldn't get married in the morning, because if they did they'd have to feed their guests two meals, and they couldn't afford to do that. She had several pictures - a few where they looked nice, and one where the wind was blowing her veil and dress around.

We were planning to get them a clock with family picture on it for their anniversary, so I stealthily pocketed some of the pictures. I wasn't stealthy enough, because every time I stole the nice wedding picture, she found it and took it back.

The clock has the windy picture on it.

It might have been that visit when I asked her whether she was born in the morning or the afternoon (because of the whole April Fool's thing). She didn't know - in her day, she said, kids didn't ask those questions.

Happy birthday, Grandma. No fooling.