Remembering...
I remember spending so much of my childhood with my paternal grandmother. All of my memories from a young age of 3 and 4 are of being with her. She was 65 years old when I was born; I only realized that when she died at the age of nearly 93. I can remember sitting on the back doorstep from her kitchen onto her porch with a little orange bowl that was my special bowl filled with Cheetos. I have a few memories of her husband, my grandfather, who died before I turned four. I remember him peeling pecans for me to eat. I remember when my mom and him would go run crab traps in his boat, and Grandma and I would get our lawn chairs, walk up the levee across the street from their house, and wait for them to return.
I remember sleeping with Grandma in the years following Grandpa’s death. I was always afraid she would die in her sleep. I remember staying awake just to be sure she kept br...