She loved hunting for “old stuff” and I LOVED to help her.
She had everything from arrowheads and antique bottles to old cars and wagon parts, and so much more..
Some of the happiest memories of my childhood come from the times we spent together.
My grandma was pure-love...
Thoughtful, polite, and always happy to play any imaginary game I could think up.
She was the kind of grandma who never forgot to pack the hot soup for our special picnics “in the wilderness.”
Like many older Americans, she hit a certain point and then aged very rapidly…
To me it seemed like she declined over night.
Then she had a heart attack.
To make matters worse, one day shortly after her heart attack she accidentally ran into the dishwasher door while it was open and cut her leg up pretty badly.
Unfortunately, due to reduced circulation, her leg never healed and it became painful and difficult for her to get around.
After that my dad moved her to a nursing home close to him.
But to be honest, she was a shell of her former self after the accident.
The hunt for antiques and picnics out in the country seemed so distant, after her energy and pep fizzled out.
Looking back at it now, all of my medical training would say that my grandma was just old, that her decline was normal…
And that there was nothing anyone could do.
Eventually my grandma passed away…