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Raven's Feather
Dec. 31st, 2005 09:23 amWolf's grandmother passed away yesterday morning. Her name was Helen and she was somewhere between 91 and 93. I don't remember exactly. ^^;;
I only met her once, three years ago at Christmas. What I remember is a small woman with a sharp tongue that cut down her daughters when she felt they needed it, even though her daughters were in their sixties. *snicker* A charming woman that gave me a big hug and welcomed me to the family, even though I was just engaged to her youngest grandson. If I hadn't been told, I never would have thought she had suffered a stroke several years earlier.
What I remember best is Helen's house. It was chock full of fairies. They were all over me, squealing and begging me to run around exploring. There was also a ghost on the second floor. It wasn't nice. Glared at me the entire time I was up there, giving me that "What do you think you're doing?" feeling all parents do when their children are in trouble. That spirit is a great uncle that committed suicide. I guess he really liked that room and doesn't want to leave. This is the same house that told me my Uncle Danny had died Christmas Eve, with a set of knocks.
So, we're heading off to NY tomorrow morning. Currently figuring out bills and such to pay for it. All three of us are driving in Sherzie, first long distance trip for our pretty car.
Rest well, Helen. I miss you.
I only met her once, three years ago at Christmas. What I remember is a small woman with a sharp tongue that cut down her daughters when she felt they needed it, even though her daughters were in their sixties. *snicker* A charming woman that gave me a big hug and welcomed me to the family, even though I was just engaged to her youngest grandson. If I hadn't been told, I never would have thought she had suffered a stroke several years earlier.
What I remember best is Helen's house. It was chock full of fairies. They were all over me, squealing and begging me to run around exploring. There was also a ghost on the second floor. It wasn't nice. Glared at me the entire time I was up there, giving me that "What do you think you're doing?" feeling all parents do when their children are in trouble. That spirit is a great uncle that committed suicide. I guess he really liked that room and doesn't want to leave. This is the same house that told me my Uncle Danny had died Christmas Eve, with a set of knocks.
So, we're heading off to NY tomorrow morning. Currently figuring out bills and such to pay for it. All three of us are driving in Sherzie, first long distance trip for our pretty car.
Rest well, Helen. I miss you.
