Because I don't feel well, I knew I needed to get something to eat this morning, and even my morning latte didn't sound good... so instead it was a cup of hot tea and some toast. I was toasting a couple of pieces of bread, spreading the Smart Balance and then some peach preserves on each piece, when all of a sudden I started to cry. Not just a few tears, but sobbing. Part of me was thinking "where in the world is this coming from" and another part was "yep, girl...you have definitely finally lost your mind!" I sat down with my toast, though, and let what was really in my heart have my mind. (This may sound crazy - but this is my blog, so I get to make the rules!) I was thinking about my Grandmother. Making toast when sick makes me think of her.
You see, when I was a little girl I spent lots of my time with my grandparents (actually, as much as possible!) My Grandmama and Granddaddy hung the moon in my little eyes. I was the firstborn grandchild, and I knew I was a princess in their castle. My Granddaddy wasn't too sure he wanted people to think he was old enough to be a grandfather when my Mom was expecting me (he was very young...everyone in my family has been pretty young having their kids) - but once he laid eyes on me, I could have called him anything I wanted. Just as long as I loved him and knew he loved me. I am pretty sure my Grandmother, on the other hand, adored me from long before I was born. Anyway... When I was somewhere around 3, I was there with them for a stay and they were both sick. Sick to the point that they needed to stay in the bed. (I've learned in having my own kids that at that age - it's nearly impossible to be sick with a small child around.) But I was different. They told me they were sick and had to rest, and I had to play quietly. Knowing they were sick, I must have seen somewhere that sick people ate toast. So I dragged the toaster, a loaf of bread, butter and jam into the bedroom... I found a box to place the toaster on (I mean, floors are dirty!) and I proceeded to make them toast with butter and jam whenever they would wake up, and the rest of the time I had my books to look at and I would sit quietly. All I can really remember other than making and serving them that toast and jam was that they were better very soon. And it had to be because I had taken such great care of them. Believe me, they paid me back throughout my life...always taking care of me and loving me beyond words or understanding. There was never a lack of love with them and I never questioned my place or importance in their life. The only thing I did to deserve their love was to be born...and I never felt there was really anything I could do that would lose their love. This being said, I also knew they would discipline me if I needed it...but in this there was never question of their love for me - only proof.
With all of the bad things I have been through in my life, I could actually write novels based on my experiences. But the saddest and most traumatic day of my life was January 16, 2002, when my Grandmother was killed in a car accident. It is a day I will never forget - because in some ways a huge part of me died along with her that day. She was so much a part of who I was...and who I am today. Hardly any day goes by that doesn't include some thought of her...but there are those moments when a memory is triggered (such as this morning) that I have to pause and sob over missing her so very much. My Grandmother taught me so much about unconditional love and forgiveness. She was no pushover, by far. She was a very passionate and strong woman who would speak her mind - and she always spoke truth. You always knew if you made her angry or disappointed her...but you always knew that she loved you; that she prayed for you; that she would do anything she possibly could do for you. She would give someone her last dollar - and she would take care of someone sick even if she could barely stand how bad she felt herself. She was a woman of self-sacrifice. My Grandmother was the strongest woman I knew...she was no stranger to heartbreak or hard work...and she never ran from either of those. Rather, she accepted that they were a part of this great life...and part of the plan God had for her life. I have no doubt that I will see my Grandmother again. She is singing in the choir in heaven right now and making friends with anyone that will stop to talk...no question about it. I can still hear her contagious laughter...she laughed through everything. I learned how to be a strong woman from my Grandmother. I learned how to be a real Christian from her life. And I am so proud of the qualities in me that came from her...whether they were inherited or developed. There is no one I would rather be compared with than her...and I hope at the end of my life I leave anything of the legacy that she left from the life she lived.
I would imagine that whenever I am sick...or even if I just want toast...that there's a great possibility it will make me cry. There are many other things that bring this great woman to my mind...and I miss her terribly. But these tears are not just sad tears, they are happy tears that God chose her to be my Grandmother...and I see that as just more proof of how much He loves me!
This is a photo of my daughter - and baby B (she's 13-mos-old and to her I am Mimi)... we had her outside last night so she could ride around in her new wagon. 
This is a photo of my Grandmama and Granddaddy...Lenora Christopher Swink and Kenneth E Swink, Sr. Losing her has greatly affected us all...but my Granddaddy lost the love of his life, and sometimes I believe he also lost his focus. I'm sure not a day goes by that his heart doesn't ache all the time over missing her.Also visit my Photography by DonnaKay blogspot... a little more about my life as I grow my photography business...
