Early this morning, my Grandmother, Ruth Vollman, passed away closing the book on the oldest generation of the Vollman family. She was 92 years old.
(added 11/10:) I was going to make this post short, but I lied awake last night thinking about her, and although my memories are just a fragment of her long life, I wanted to share.
I remember how she introduced me to the gooey goodness that is Cadbury Creme Eggs, which my mom told me I wouldn’t like….
I remember picking my Grandma up on Sundays on the way to church Downtown. On the way there, she’d complain. On the way back, she’d tell us how much she enjoyed us picking her up.
I remember my Grandma holding up a pack of her cigarettes and telling me, “Don’t ever do these” as she lit the one pursed between her lips.
I remember the stormy night my sister was born. My parents dropped me off at Grandma’s house and we stayed up late together in anticipation of the good news.
I remember the day my Grandma collapsed in the Wyatt’s Cafeteria and was rushed to the hospital. They discovered she had an aneurysm, but she beat the odds and survived. She was one tough cookie. When she got out, she’d forgotten that she’d ever smoked.
I remember how each Christmas and Thanksgiving she would say, “Y’all better be nice to me. This may be my last Christmas!” She said that each time we got together for the last 10 years.
We’ll miss you this Thanksgiving and Christmas, Grandma. We’ll miss you telling us its time to take you home. We’ll miss you.
