It's been a month and 2 days since my Gram died. I am slowly starting to unpack some of her belongings that I brought back with me from Iowa. At first it was just "business"-- unpacking, washing... but now the reality is settling in as I make space in my kitchen for items that were in her kitchen for as long as I can remember. Seeing them in my kitchen seems proof that she's really gone; otherwise, I wouldn't have these things.
I took her canister set, because it especially reminds me of her, in the kitchen cooking breakfast or dinner. Chicken a la King. Waffles. Scrambled eggs. Cookies. Those canisters were always there on the counter while she measured and mixed and cooked in the kitchen. And whistled polkas while she worked.
The spice canisters, too. When I was emptying them of years old, leftover spices, opening the cinnamon and nutmeg and ground ginger, I realized that these were smells that reminded me of Gram-- of her house and her person. I had never been able to specifically identify those smells before, at least not consciously.
I also brought back the Pyrex teapot. I can't even begin to count how many times I saw that teapot full of boiling water in her kitchen, or sitting on a trivet mat on her dining room table with Lipton tea bags floating in it. Gram loved her hot tea.
Gram never was able to make it out to Colorado to see our house, which makes me sad when I think of it. But she's here in my kitchen now, and always will be.
3 hours ago