Last week when we were having Sunday Supper at my parents’ house, my dad said, “Well, we know it’s going to snow on Saturday.”
He was right.
Friday was sunny and clear. So, despite my dad’s prediction, I was surprised when I came downstairs this morning and Peter informed me that it was snowing.
“Really?” I asked. And then I remembered.
Today would have been my grandmother’s birthday. She died five years ago, a week after she turned 92. Considering that her birthday fell in mid-winter, it wasn’t surprising that there was often snow on that day. However, it did seem like we often got hit with unusually large storms. Maybe we noticed it more because we would plan a celebration only to be thwarted by the weather.
Grandma also went out in style. The roads were blanketed with snow and ice on the evening of her calling hours. On the day of her funeral, we could not have graveside services due to the amount of snow at the cemetery.
My grandma passed away before Philip was born. I wish they could have met each other. I feel blessed that I was able to spend as much time with her as I did while growing up and into adulthood.
Today’s snowstorm wasn’t that bad. Philip and I managed a quick shopping trip. Since we were already out, we stopped at the library for some browsing and playing.
When we returned home, I let Philip play in the backyard in the snow. And I thought about Grandma. She was an amazing woman, and I miss her. Especially since it is snowed on her birthday.
Happy Birthday, Grandma.