On Plums

The other day I ate a plum for the first time in years.  I still hated it.  I can remember as a kid wanting so badly to love plums.  The obvious reason is the deep purple color, always my favorite.  But mostly it was because of my Grandma Penner.  Gram had a fantastic garden.  I wonder sometimes how big it really was compared to my memories.  I guess the actual dimensions don't matter, my memories there are big enough.  More than the hours spent on the swings, or 'helping' my dad pour cement for the sidewalk, or sneaking out to the vines with my cousins to eat grapes (and being appalled that they had seeds!), I cherish the talks I had with my Gram sitting under her plum tree. 

Sometimes we would sit there and she would tell me about all the different kinds of ants climbing its trunk.  Other times she would tell me stories about my dad and his siblings.  She loved to tell me about the time she (or someone) was trying to take my picture in front of the cactus and I fell into it.  Always, she made me feel like I was the most special person in her world at that moment, not just one of her...I don't even know how many...great-grandkids.  And always, she would pick two plums off the tree so we could each enjoy one while we talked.  Oh, how I hated plums, but I could never tell Gram. 

It's been five years since the world lost the fiery spark of joy that was my great-grandma.  I miss her more all the time.  It's funny, the more time that passes, the less prominent the memories are of her last years.  I'm thankful for that, and she would be too.  I remember instead the kind of grandma that let me swing too high on the swings, the kind of cook who made lasagna and peach cobbler that still makes my dad's mouth water, and the kind of friend that you could always trust to keep your secrets.  I wish more than anything that more people had the chance to know her.  I wish I could have known her better.  Even if I told all the stories I know about her, it would only be a glimpse into the life of an amazing woman you just had to experience.  I suppose it's better that way, otherwise telling the stories that are "just between us" would be too tempting.

I'm thankful today for every moment I had with my Gram.  Even for every plum.  I'm also thankful that I'll never have to eat another one, since there's nobody else on earth I'd do it for!