Grandma Gillingham

Corrine Gillingham 07/09/30-12/10/10

The last time I saw her, Grandma asked me when I was coming home…she said she didn’t think she would be around by then. She was right. I only wish I would have told her how much she meant to me…my heart grieves that I didn’t have one more good-bye, but I hope and pray that she knew I loved her dearly. My Gramma Corrine was uniquely mine, as are my memories of her. I am so blessed to have shared my life thus far with her, and I will miss her immensely in the years to come. Gramma had a way of always making me feel special, spoiled – so she succeeded in her role as a Grandmother!!
Thank you Gramma, for being there for me, for spending time, caring, and leaving your fingerprints on my heart. I love you.

To my Gramma Corrine: by Kristin Gillingham 12.15.10

I remember Asparagus Springtimes.
You and I … seeking out peeking spears,
Shauno-road-trips to awaiting cousins and horses.
You were there – snapping photos, telling stories.

I remember…Pontoon summers,
dripping with laughter, pan-fish fins pricking pudgy fingers…
My pink Minnie Mouse pole, like a buried treasure, sleeping somewhere on the bottom of the Nagawicka.
You were there – passing sodas and snacks, wiping my tears, sun-bathing and smiling.

I remember Autumn sleepovers…
sleepy-delicious Cracklin’ Oat Bran mornings,
flying (ok, swinging!) over the lazy channel, baking and raking.
You were there…singing…always singing.

I remember…Wintertime wonderment;
bundling up in our finest to see you on stage…
so proud of my famous, rouge-cheeked, “Herb and Ethel” grandparents!
Your house sparkling, warm, red-and-white ready for sled-riding and cocoa.
You were there…wiping noses, layering mittened fingers.

I remember silly songs of Suzanne, Mrs. Murphy, and “The Old Apple Tree”;
my blue-cherub ballerina box chiming “Fascination”,
world’s best spaghetti and stuffing and salads with ‘crunchy noodles’.
I remember toilet paper protection from public bathroom germs,
antiquated combs and fancy purse collections, birthday surprises, and yard-darts.

I remember you…
open arms,
perfume lingering,
soft finger touches,
and proud grandma-smiles.
I…remember… …you…