It’s memorial day weekend. The time when we honor our dead. I don’t really know what most people do for memorial day. I guess BBQs are popular. Every year my family goes the cemetery, where we put a bunch of fake flowers on the headstone of my late grandma Louise.
Grandma Louise died when I was really little, so I don’t get all choked up about her passing. I only have one real memory of her, and its of her scolding me for something.
On Thursday, I was coming back from my excursion to the Nevada desert with my grandpa Joe. I had brought “Of Mice and Men” to read in the car, and my grandpa mentioned that grandma Louise used that book in her class (she was an English teacher).
That got me thinking. My grandma seems to have been a person who loved literature. In fact, from what my mom has told me, she liked a lot of the books that I like.
Like I said, my grandma died when I was little, so I don’t really miss her. But for the first time in my life, I feel like I have missed out on not knowing the person that she was.
I guess that’s what I be thinking about tomorrow, when I put fake flowers on her grave.