Tuesday, December 3, 2013
When I think of Gramma Rader, the first thing that comes to mind are her open arms, kind smile and that mischievous twinkle she so often had in her eye. She always had a huge hug for her grandkids and a way with words that always made you feel like you were the thing she loved most in the world. In all the years we had together, I don't remember any cross words, furrowed brows or I-told-you-so's. She may have been the nicest woman I've ever known and I count myself lucky that she was my Gramma. Growing up, we never lived that far away from Gramma and Grampa and that meant lunches at their place instead of going home or eating at school, Gramma teaching me how to play solitaire and other card games and countless family outings in and around Cranbrook. So many little stories I could share, and yet what seems to be most important about each of them wasn't what happened or who was there, but how Gramma always made me feel warm and welcome and loved in only the way that she could. And not only as a kid, even in our recent visits, a hug from Gramma somehow always felt just a little bit more special than all the other hugs - like she put a little bit more into them than the rest of us are able to. I miss them already.
