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I was lucky enough to get to spend a lot of time with my grandparents as I grew up. the time with my parents around was fine, but I really cherish the time we spent with them alone. you get a deeper glimpse into the people they are when you are visitors for a stretch of days when they forget they have guests and behave like no one is looking.
my grandmother, chloe, was always cooking or cleaning up after we ate. she’d just roll right into cooking the next meal, usually singing hymns while she worked. her kitchen was on the second floor of the house my grandfather, earl, built for them and it had a large window that overlooked the lane on which their house sat at the end. as she spent her days there, she kept up on what was happening in the neighborhood, who was visiting with who and for how long, who got packages, who left their lawn to grow a little wild… as things would happen that surprised her, she’d comment “oh my stars… come look at this. the hundley’s got a new truck!” or “oh my stars!! melba’s son just sprayed her with the hose! what a rascal!”
I miss hearing her observations from her little perch above the lane. when someone surprises me now, I still hear her in my head, “oh my stars!”