Grandson fondly remembers his grandmother
To the Editor:
I remember ...
I was born and raised in Bloomfield, but now I live far away in the state of Maine with my wife and children.
Last Tuesday, my grandmother, Alberta Neidigh, passed away. I was unable to attend the funeral, and was thinking about how I could pay my respects to this wonderful woman. After all, by giving birth to my father she made it possible for me to enter the world and for me to give life to my own children.
My mind traveled randomly back through the years, pausing here and there to recall an event that left its mark. I decided that I would make a list of a few of those far-away moments in my life and dedicate it to her memory.
The cold, mineral taste of water from a tin can on the pump out in the barn yard.
Staring in wonder at the huge draft horses, big as elephants to my eyes.
Stalking tadpoles, crawdads, and frogs in the creek with my cousins.
Holland ice cream sandwiches from the freezer.
Fresca in the bumpy green bottles fresh from the fridge.
That funny pink shell soap dish in the bathroom.
The old ashtray with a rubber dog lifting his leg to put out the butts.
Toys from the parlor closet to keep us entertained.
The basement, where the family gathered for holidays.
Piles of hot rolls for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner.
Everyone singing "Silent Night" for her each Christmas eve.
Cement geese dressed up on the front porch.
Introducing her to my babies as they came along.
Sitting on the front porch, passing the time on a summer evening.
And most of all, just being herself, Grandma Neidigh.
Yes, Grandma, I will always remember.
Christopher (Neidigh) Boyd