Love Makes the Difference

I've been sort of going on about making new relationships. Lately I've been obsessed with one that is for this life seemingly over.

You're looking at my beauty of a Grandma. She left a bit of a hole in my heart when she died a few months ago. At our family reunion this past weekend, my aunt gave me a book of memories that she had found with my name on it. Grandma had only been a few pages into it, but I treasure those few pages of memories she gave me, mostly from her childhood.



My aunt also wrote me a biography to aid me in my attempt to write Grandma and Grandpa's story. They have quite a story. I don't have to exaggerate it at all and it will be quite the tale. I remember clearly as I am sitting here at this table right now sitting with Grandma at her table 15 years ago and asking her if I could write her story one day. She hemmed and hawed about how there wasn't anything to tell, but she was just being modest. Because then she said sure I could and started to tell me things. I've forgotten a lot of that conversation which is why I'm so thankful to have my aunt and my mom to help me with the details, but one thing she said cemented in my mind. "Mandy, I may be all old and wrinkly on the outside, but inside I feel the same as I did when I was sixteen."

Being in my early thirties now, I am starting to understand what she means. We grow, we change, we mature, we age, but our being stays the same. Who we are, what delights us, what motivates us, what we love, what makes us cry... that really doesn't change all that much.

And I know what my Grandma loved. She loved love. She loved her husband, she loved her children, she loved her grandchildren, she loved her Savior. As her mother used to say "Love Makes the Difference."

I am proud to carry on the tradition.