Last year I had the chance to bring my son to meet his great-grandparents. There is a photo of GG beaming with joy at a Nice To Meet You kiss from Jack. It occurs to me that she had that same pride and joy about all of us in her family–interested in our lives and so glad to have known us.
I was one of those kids growing up that longed to be Older (As in “I’ll tell you when you’re Older” or “You can do that when you’re Older and don’t live under my roof.”) I asked for my own apartment at 7. GG could sense that in me and took every op-portunity to make me feel grown up and not baby me. There were still always dolls to play with—just in case— but I was never shooed out to play. It seems silly now for that to be something that sticks out in my mind but I just don’t have as many solid memories as I would like. More just feel-ings. GG felt warm and safe, gracious and sweet, welcoming and happy.
I always loved my middle name that I got from GG. I’m proud to have that link to her. There are ways we were alike that I was just beginning to discover. And I am filled with regret that I didn’t spend the time to get to know her as an adult, to cultivate a relationship as an avid reader and a gardener, an active mommy and a knit-ter. I’m sure now that there are other ways we were alike. I am so blessed to have known such a wonderful per-son, to have had her in my life for so long, and to have been loved by her. I love you grandmommy.
— Julia Catherine Ingalls
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