This happens to be the very first picture on that first page of my dad's photo album. This is grandma and grandpa. Grandpa died a month before I was born. He was anxiously awaiting the only grandchild he would get from any of his sons. As a result he was probably anticipating a boy to carry on the name...well, close enough I guess. His ghost haunted our basement until I was born. Dad actually had a conversation with him...I never got the details of that either...although dad probably didn't remember anyway.
And then there is grandma. She was my Guardian Angel. She was the one ray of hope in my life as a child. And I still carry her love with me today. Grandma was about 4'6", but according to dad, "she could pick up a grown man, turn him upside down, and drop him on his head". And she didn't take any shit from anyone...except for uncle Bill. She took care of him and put up with his abuse for 9 years, and she never stopped loving him. That was just the kind of person she was.
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