Gracie gets her wish (1917 – 2010)

We hate to see You go!
We hate to see You go!
We hope to hell you never come back!
We hate to see You go!

That has always been the Bigelow parting song whenever a visit would end.  I can still remember hearing my Grandfather singing it to this day.  Grandpa died almost 18 years ago, and today, my Grandmother joined him and their dog Dusty.

I have an image in my head that will stay with me forever. Gram is in her chair holding a cigarette and the newspaper with her toast cut into squares and coffee sitting on the table next to her. Gramp is lying on the couch, with an iced tea and the television is on and showing a golf tournament. Dusty is resting peacefully on the bean bag under the big windows.

I went through my email earlier today and pulled out all of the photos that Mom has sent along over the past few years.  I think that by looking through them, you can get a sense that she was a woman who was quite unique in her own special way. This leads me to Gram getting her wish. Each time we would travel home and I would ask her how she was feeling, she would reply “Ok, but I wish I were dead”. That was Gram, always telling you how it is.

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