May 4, my Grandma would be 92.
When she passed, we collected money for a fund instead of flowers.
I mean, she loved flowers and was surrounded by flowers in life. In fact, the woman who now lives in my Grandma's former room home is undoubtedly floored by the explosion of buttercups and gladiolas that are going on in her patio garden. We made the most of our 4x8 feet of space...what can I say.
But when she left us, we didn't want flowers that would die.
We wanted dollars that could live on forever.
Tomorrow night, an underpriveleged girl at a local highschool will get $1500 toward her musical education. She'll have her books or car insurance or a class or two paid for.
My Grandma attended Sherwood Music School in Chicago in the 1930s, and she did it on scholarships, nanny jobs and a shoestring. She'd tell you about putting a Buffalo nickle in the vending machine for an apple, and how that apple was her whole lunch, if you'd listen.
(I'd give anything to hear her tell that story again. )
Tomorrow, I'll meet my Mom and my Aunt - who drove in from Hatley, Wisconsin tonight - to watch this young woman receive the scholarship tomorrow night. My Grandma's birthday is the perfect time for giving...