A Special Birthday
We've been busy around these parts lately and once again I am slagging behind on my blog. I've got the day off today, a rainy Monday which "promises" to soon turn to snow, so it's a good time to catch up.
The Boy is watching Wall-E on DVD, the boxer is passed out on his rug and the dingo is stretched out under the kitchen table.
And all I can think of is where the hell is spring? It's certainly not coming in the next 48 hours.
We got back yesterday afternoon after a fun, whirlwind trip to Duluth, where we hung out with our great friends, Brian and Lindsey and their kids. We stayed at the Edgewater where the tax deductions exhausted themselves at the water park (which is never a bad thing). Saturday night we hit Canal Park Brewery for cocktails.
My review of the joint is two words: Hell, yeah.
The Wife and I are going back to Duluth in early April and we are staying right next to the brewery. Between this place, Fitger's and Grandma's, there is simply not enough time in the day. I love Duluth. That is all.
Two weekends ago (has it been that long since I've updated?) we hosted my brothers and their wives. It is always great to get together with them and this year we watched my brother Dale's hometown Win-E-Mac girls basketball team win the state championship.
Best of all (for me) is Win-E-Mac beat Minneota, the school which destroyed my dreams of a state championship in football both my junior and senior years in high school. It took 27 years, but revenge tasted pretty darn sweet.
Today is a special day. My grandma (my mom's mom) would have been 106 years old today. Wilma Walker was born on March 31, 1908. She died in 1985, just a couple hours shy of her 77th birthday.
It's been 29 years since she's been gone, but I still think of her often. It may sound strange, but I still remember what her voice sounded like. Aside from my parents, she was the most influential adult in my early life. In fact, the Boy's middle name is "Walker," in honor of her (and Mom).
I was 15 years old when Grandma passed away and it was the first time anyone close to me had died (my dad's parents and Wilma's husband died before I was old enough to remember them). Like any kid, I had a difficult time understanding why and coming to grips with her passing. Little did I know at the time, but Mom would die just five years later.
I learned to deal with the concept of death at a fairly young age. I guess it made me grow a pair sooner rather than later. At least, that's how I look at it.
Here's a picture I found this morning. My mom took this picture with her trusty Polaroid. On the back, in her handwriting, is "March 1, 1971." I was 17 months and my grandma was about to celebrate her 63rd birthday. Unfortunately, the photo is starting to fade, but it is still in reasonably good shape.
We were enjoying a nice, sunny day... but look at all that snow! Kind of reminiscent of this winter, isn't it??
Happy Birthday, Grandma. I will never, ever forget you.
The Boy is watching Wall-E on DVD, the boxer is passed out on his rug and the dingo is stretched out under the kitchen table.
And all I can think of is where the hell is spring? It's certainly not coming in the next 48 hours.
We got back yesterday afternoon after a fun, whirlwind trip to Duluth, where we hung out with our great friends, Brian and Lindsey and their kids. We stayed at the Edgewater where the tax deductions exhausted themselves at the water park (which is never a bad thing). Saturday night we hit Canal Park Brewery for cocktails.
My review of the joint is two words: Hell, yeah.
The Wife and I are going back to Duluth in early April and we are staying right next to the brewery. Between this place, Fitger's and Grandma's, there is simply not enough time in the day. I love Duluth. That is all.
Two weekends ago (has it been that long since I've updated?) we hosted my brothers and their wives. It is always great to get together with them and this year we watched my brother Dale's hometown Win-E-Mac girls basketball team win the state championship.
Best of all (for me) is Win-E-Mac beat Minneota, the school which destroyed my dreams of a state championship in football both my junior and senior years in high school. It took 27 years, but revenge tasted pretty darn sweet.
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Today is a special day. My grandma (my mom's mom) would have been 106 years old today. Wilma Walker was born on March 31, 1908. She died in 1985, just a couple hours shy of her 77th birthday.
It's been 29 years since she's been gone, but I still think of her often. It may sound strange, but I still remember what her voice sounded like. Aside from my parents, she was the most influential adult in my early life. In fact, the Boy's middle name is "Walker," in honor of her (and Mom).
I was 15 years old when Grandma passed away and it was the first time anyone close to me had died (my dad's parents and Wilma's husband died before I was old enough to remember them). Like any kid, I had a difficult time understanding why and coming to grips with her passing. Little did I know at the time, but Mom would die just five years later.
I learned to deal with the concept of death at a fairly young age. I guess it made me grow a pair sooner rather than later. At least, that's how I look at it.
Here's a picture I found this morning. My mom took this picture with her trusty Polaroid. On the back, in her handwriting, is "March 1, 1971." I was 17 months and my grandma was about to celebrate her 63rd birthday. Unfortunately, the photo is starting to fade, but it is still in reasonably good shape.
We were enjoying a nice, sunny day... but look at all that snow! Kind of reminiscent of this winter, isn't it??
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| Me and Grandma Walker. March 1, 1971 |
Happy Birthday, Grandma. I will never, ever forget you.
