When I was little, there was nothing I looked forward to more than going to Grandpa and Grandma’s house.  My cousin, Toby, and I were great pals and we loved exploring Grandma’s big walk-in closet or finding adventure in the somewhat untamed yard. 

    I’m sure if I returned to that house today, I would be shocked at how small it actually is.  In my memory, it was a big place with plenty of room to roam both inside and out. 

    It had a huge kitchen that was connected to the hall by an archway.  Grandma chose that archway as the spot to chart our growth.  Each time we would come, she would mark our height on the wall and note who was taller.  (I can’t help but wonder if Toby may have repressed that memory.  In those days, I was typically the taller of the two which was made all the worse by the fact that I was 9 months his junior and a girl.)  I remember how amazed I was that Grandma would write directly on the wall as a permanent monument to our progress.  But Grandma knew something that I didn’t - that a good coat of paint would be all it would take to make that wall like new again.  She also knew something we mom’s tend to forget, that the memories made it childhood are far more important and last far longer than a few marks on a wall. 

    It is obvious, looking back, that all those happy memories were no accident.  They were born of careful planning and sacrifice.  I can imagine the organizational nightmare we left behind each time she gave us free reign of her walk-in closet but she didn’t seem to mind the inconvenience. 

    As we got older and were no longer content to explore, she made sure she had the latest big kid toys to keep us entertained.  Grandma had video games when they were still a novelty and as the technology advanced, we could always be sure that the console at Grandma’s house would be at least one generation newer than the one at home. 

    She was also the perfect hostess.  While this is a hard quality to quantify, she had a special way of making everyone who ever walked through her door feel at home.  She was a fantastic cook, always finding delicious new recipes to add to her already ample holiday spreads.  She was also skilled with just about every kind of crafting needle ever invented, creating dozens of heirloom quality pieces which will passed down for generations to come.

    From the carefully orchestrated experiences of childhood, to the dozens of picture perfect Holiday celebrations, to the hundreds of heirlooms she produced over the years, Grandma was truly the master architect of fond memories.  I will always love her, I will always be grateful, and I will always remember.