On many days she dwells in the memories gathered in crossing ninety-five years. Her journey, begun in 1915, has been richer in people and experiences than in geographic destinations, but travel is travel, whether in distance or time.
A matriarch like no other, my Grandma Dugan also holds a bit of the little girl named Mary within her, making her a completely fascinating and compelling presence in my life. She snoozed through a recent visit having overexerted herself moments before making a break for some enticing flower beds beyond the safe edges of the care center’s outdoor patio. I love that she still finds satisfying a curiosity worth the considerable effort of propelling her wheelchair down a sidewalk.
Her smiles made me smile at her birthday party this past week. In her usual fashion, she flitted about the room greeting her guests, exclaiming at the purple decorations and enjoying all the special attention. When presented with the first slice of birthday cake she insisted I share it with her, bite for bite, enjoying it all the more for sharing it with me.
Milestones. They encapsulate our memories and plant them in a place we can revisit at will. This year we have celebrated my oldest son’s high school graduation and the life of my Grandma Prior after her passing at age 92. On June 30th we were privileged to honor the passing of but another year for Grandma Dugan. 95 years and still counting…11 Comments