When I was a young(er) woman, I often used my great-grandparents as my mental guides.
Hazel and Clifford were a wonderful, happy part of my childhood. They lived on the family farm where Grandpa’s own Great-Grandparent’s had lived. To me, it seemed like they had been there forever, almost like characters out of a fairytale. Great-Grandma was a tiny, little woman who always wore a dress, old-fashioned lace-up boots, and a smile. She taught me how to gather eggs. I can see her bending down before me, the bun in her hair streaked with gray. She may have been old, but her eyes were youthful and sparkled with merriment. Continue Reading »