Last week at my Grandma Peg's memorial, my Aunt passed around a scrapbook that my grandmother had put together several years ago. In the book was a poem I had written in 4th grade for a county wide contest in 1968. The poem somehow won first place and was published in a small anthology. I had long forgotten about the poem and and would have bet the farm that it was lost forever. And yet, there it was. My poem was just one of the forgotten treasures created by Grandma Peg's many grandchildren. In this scrapbook were drawings of stick figure people, animals, flowers and programs for school pageants. Each one of these trophies were proudly given to Grandma Peg to prove how smart or talented we all were. She in turn kept them in a book to prove how much she loved us. Learning that that she kept a poem I wrote 48 years ago was an emotional moment for me. It was one last "I love you," from a woman who told me that she loved me every single time we were together.
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