Memories with Grandma

March 11, 2009
By Anonymous

It was just like any other day. Since kindergarten, my school morning routines had been the same. I'd wake up with an emotionless expression on my face, and walk down the hallway with my eyes closed. Already knowing the floor plan, I had no trouble navigating my way around while in sleep mode. I'd sit at the kitchen table to enjoy a bowl of Life cereal, trying to somehow become coherent. While enjoying my gourmet breakfast, I'd sit in awe admiring the beautiful sunrise peering up behind Mt. St Helens from my backyard view. This was the best way to start my day, that is, until I was to visit with my Grandma.

Packing up all of my belongings, I'd slip on my Nike shoes, give my mother a kiss goodbye, and leave out the backdoor to go over and catch the bus in front of my Grandma and Grandpa's house. Walking through the backyard, I always went from a sluggish walk to a full on sprint just so I had extra time to visit with my Grandma before the bus would show up. Passing the side of the house, I'd reach the front, look up at the highest window, and there she stood with a beaming smile on her face worth a million bucks. My Grandma, the happiest person I had ever met in my life, made the extra effort to wake up early to wave me off for my six hour long day at school.

Grandma would open the window, allowing me to get a vivid vision of her face. Her eyes could be compared to nothing, but much compared to the most beautiful thing in the world. This I could see why Grandpa was so in love with her. Her curly permed brown hair, which was all bed head like, showed off her perky personality. Barely able to lean out of the window because her lack in height, Grandma would always ask me if I needed a little snack for the day, or a full pack of gum. Thanking her, but never needing anything, she'd run tho the other room and grab whatever little goodie she could find and toss it out the front door for me anyway. She was always tempted to walk me to the bus or run out, but would remeber that her little pink nightgown was a no go for the outdoors. She'd walk back to her window, and as it was time for me to depart down the driveway, we'd always say 'huggy huggy mahi mahi' in a rythmic musical kind of manner. I never really knew where this came from, but it was only known between Grandma and I. Most of the time when we'd recite our tradition we would be hugging, but because of the gap between me on the ground and Grandma at the second story, we would just smile and pretend to hug, With that, my departure would begin and I'd head down to the bus, and she would be closing the window behind me. Until the bus would drive off, there she'd stand at the window waving to me until out of her sight. Always wanting the best view of her loving wave, I would take a seat on the bus closest to the house every morning. Off we drove, and Grandma still there with that unforgettable smile there on her face.

To this day, twelve years later, when I every so often go out to catch the bus, I turn around to glance at the wondow, picturing my Grandma with that special glow all around her, waving me off to the bus singing huggy huggy mahi mahi to me, making sure I have the best day at school ever.

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