My Grandma Edith was the most kind human I've ever known. She passed away just after thanksgiving in 2008. We were close. Some of my best childhood memories were spending a long weekend in the summer with her and my grandfather for Hayfield Haydays, going to the beauty pageant and meeting each years Miss Minnesota. We would make Lefse, Krumkaka, pies and apple sauce cake. She taught me how to chord on the piano and as I got older I would play with her and the fiddlers at the nursing home. She would say she lived through me as I traveled and moved across the country and we stayed connected through letters. I miss her often.
Just after she passed away I returned to school in WA and started to see dragon flies, in December. While not completely unheard of, it's not common. Every time I have moved since then I see dragon flies in within the first few days, I think of it as my reminder that she never stopped being there for me or supporting me. When we first moved to WA as newlyweds, there were dozens of them for weeks. I also have found that if I'm having an especially hard time or a difficult season that I notice them around more.
You can tell me I just notice them more, but I don't care. It's a connection and a reminder and I'm okay with my take on it.
Yesterday I saw 2 while at the elections office and today I saw 2 more at my home. Quarantine has been tough on all of us. I have been home since Mid March, remote teaching is a special experience, especially in special education, but at least it keeps me and my students safe. My husband has been looking for work since April 1st. As I look to head back to school (online I hope for now), as our country is facing daily threats to democracy from the leader of what was once the greatest nation in the free world, as racial tensions around the country continue to reach their breaking points, my life has a lot of questions and not a lot of answers.
Seeing the dragon flies felt good and would have been enough on its own, but then I found another reminder of her love. Today while cleaning out our kitchen cabinets I found her pumpkin pie recipe in her handwriting on a note card. I don't eat pumpkin pie, so I had no idea how I ended up with this recipe, but it was another wonderful reminder of our memories together and her love for me. As a school teacher my grandma has beautiful Palmer Method handwriting. I have so few samples of her writing at this stage in my life I cherish all of them.
I decided to become of a teacher after the passed, I hope she'd be proud of me.
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