When I brought Matt, my future husband (and English major) home our last year of college, the three of us went to dinner. During the meal, they spent almost the whole time discussing their favorite authors and works of literature. She commented to me later when we were alone, that although he was not Jewish, she knew he was a good man because he liked to read.
Grandma went blind in her 80’s and one of the first things she did was sign up to receive books on tape through the mail from the Braille Institute each month. Nothing was going to stop her from reading. When I was teaching, she came into my classroom to help kids read. Grandma would sit with a child, one at a time and have them to read to her. When they came to a word they didn’t know, and needed help, they knew to spell it for her because she could not see it.
Towards the end of her life, Grandma had to finally admit to herself she could no longer live alone and moved into a retirement home. She talked to me of writing a book for children about retirement homes and assisted living, explaining to children why their grandparents live there and what to expect when visiting. Although the book was never written, and she developed Alzheimer’s disease, no doubt, it would have been a wonderful learning tool for kids. A blind widow in her late eighties, never looking for pity, still helping children read.
Sunday our family will take the day and meet for lunch to celebrate her 100th birthday. And I know that everyday I read a book to my children, I am celebrating her memory.
Happy Birthday Grandma. This one's for you.