The Black Haired Grandma

See the name came from Kristen, in comparison to our shared Grandma Sarah Mae who certainly did not have black hair.  She was quiet, with a sincere grin, and a loving whisper.

She wasn’t my grandma but sometimes I felt like she kind of was.  In the days before Kristen and Charles when I would stay with Susie on Cartwright, I saw her often.  Her smile was so welcoming as she sat down beside me to talk or show me something.  When we would visit the house by the college, I always enjoyed all the interesting things her and Mr. Jones had on display, my favorite was the rock that looked like a president, I don’t remember which one.  There I learned about homing pigeons and crafts.

When I started teaching she brought me things to make crafts with and Mr. Jones even brought his pigeons to release at school to amaze the kids.  In later years, after she came to share Thanksgiving at my house and had her reserved seat in the dining room with the other grandmas chatting away about recipes and days gone by.

Her and Mr. Jones will be remembered as always helping and always loving their own and others.