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I find that as I get older, I think more about the people of my youth, most of whom have died. And like you, I think about my grandmother, with whom I was very close.
I find it odd because I hadn't really given her more than a passing thought for the last thirty years, but now, when I am old, she seems closer to me than even my mother (who also died).
It's both comforting and sad.
I absolutely adored my grandmother and was horrified when she died. I can totally, totally relate to what you're saying. As I've gotten older, I've appreciated her even more. What a fabulous woman she was!
I don’t know if you’re mourning or not, but I think it’s OK to think about those memories of spending time with your grandmother.
For what it’s worth, I’m in my late 30s and I was close with my grandparents. They’re gone now, but I still think about them a lot, in a good way. I also have a couple of their possessions that nobody else wanted; totally random things like camping utensils that I always use when I camp, Pyrex coffee mugs with the green flower border that I drink coffee out of every day, and other little things that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. When I use these items, I always think about my grandparents, but it’s more of a happy thing, not necessarily mourning.
Why do you have to label it? Yes, it sounds like grieving, but what difference does it make whether you think of it as grief, or melancholy, or nostalgia?
She would be so pleased at your still thinking of her, often and lovingly.
I find that as I get older, I think more about the people of my youth, most of whom have died. And like you, I think about my grandmother, with whom I was very close.
I find it odd because I hadn't really given her more than a passing thought for the last thirty years, but now, when I am old, she seems closer to me than even my mother (who also died).
It's both comforting and sad.
My paternal grandmother died when I was 16, and now I am 64. Every so often, I dream of her. She is always smiling and I get a hug. I love those dreams.
Rick, my mother who died a few years ago at age 90 told me one thing that made her sad about dying is that there would be nobody left on earth who would remember her own grandmother, whom she had loved deeply as a child. The memories of people fade away but the memory of love stays strong.
Rick, my mother who died a few years ago at age 90 told me one thing that made her sad about dying is that there would be nobody left on earth who would remember her own grandmother, whom she had loved deeply as a child. The memories of people fade away but the memory of love stays strong.
I remember thinking with a shock that if I didn't tell my deceased brother's kids some of his stories from our shared childhood, they'd die with me. (My brother wasn't much of a talker.) I told them all sorts of crazy things, even that we'd get up early on Saturday mornings to watch cartoons and we'd eat Cap'n Crunch with Crunchberries dry and out of the box till the roofs of our mouths were raw!
I felt that way about my grandfather. Every Friday after school my mom, brother and I would go visit him. He would have brownies baking or cake. He always had goodies for us to eat. My mom and her dad were very close like best friends. Her mom had died in 1975. He would let us do what ever we wanted. He made us all bicycles out of old frames he found in the garbage, paint them and put new tires so we could ride bikes at his house. We always went out to eat and my uncle who was still single at the time also lived with him and he worked as a bar tender at night so he would join us for dinner then leave and go to work. We would go to a place called Nunley's eat there, play video games and ride the rides or we would go to Roy Rogers or Sizzler. He would always want to treat but my mom and him would argue LOL. I reminisce about him and my uncle a lot. Sadly both are passed on my Grandfather in 1995 and Uncle in 2008. Like the OP said I'd rather be with my grandfather on a Friday night then out with friends hanging around doing nothing. I would give anything to have that back now.
I remember thinking with a shock that if I didn't tell my deceased brother's kids some of his stories from our shared childhood, they'd die with me. (My brother wasn't much of a talker.) I told them all sorts of crazy things, even that we'd get up early on Saturday mornings to watch cartoons and we'd eat Cap'n Crunch with Crunchberries dry and out of the box till the roofs of our mouths were raw!
This made me realize I have a few about my brother that my niece should know!
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