Words From a Funeral

You know, I wrote this last night and wasn't even sure I'd end up reading it today. Please bear with me.

Earlier this week, Molly asked us grandchildren what memories of grandma we will carry with us. I immediately thought of three specific scenarios, which will hopefully lighten our spirits a bit since I will always remember Katy as a fun, warm and sociable woman.

First, in my mind I still picture her at the Higgins Lake cottage, sitting out back on the patio in one of the green swinging couches. Nine times out of 10 she had a choice beverage in her hand that she told us kids was "iced tea." By the time I was 11, I learned that iced tea was, give or take, only half the contents of her glass. I also learned that when the words "long" and "island" are placed in front of "iced tea," it's an entirely different ballgame. And a much more enjoyable one at that. So I cheers you on that note, grandma.

Secondly, when doctors prescribed grandma calcium supplements to help strengthen her bones, we were all a bit confused as to why she started carrying around a seemingly endless supply of vitamin C pills in her purse. "Doctor's orders!" she said. That's when we had to politely explain to grandma that the "C" in "vitamin C" does not stand for calcium. She thought this was hilarious, so bless her for that. And to her credit, the doctor should have been more specific. Sorry if you're here, doc.

Finally, I remember the questioning but loving looks grandma gave us grandchildren once (who, mind you, were probably on the verge of a sugar- or caffeine-induced comatose) as we gathered around the stereo, got out Storm Front's lyrics sheet, turned the volume on full blast and attempted to belt out every single word of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start The Fire." And all of this at 10 a.m.! "We did not start this fire, grandma... It was always burning." We're sorry about that one, Katy.

We love you big.