Saturday, November 20, 2010

The Car in the Driveway

My brother came over last night to deliver the free turkey he got from the grocery store where he works.  I had run upstairs and happened to glance out the front window and I saw his car.  My grandmother's car.  In my driveway.

Does it still smell like her?  If I close my eyes, could I still see her sitting behind the wheel?

Due to the time it takes to get a title transferred from another state and an estate to finally close, my brother had not been able to actually drive the car until recently, even though he's had it since April.  So, really, it was quite the shock to see it sitting there even though I knew he'd been driving it.

What would it be like to run my hands over the steering wheel?  To touch the radio dial, to find some classical music that would have been pleasure upon her ears?  To look in the rear-view mirror and see...myself?

Today, I saw yesterday's mail laying on the table.  So busy and tired last night, I had not even noticed that Craig had brought it in.  A letter lay atop the magazines and other junk.  A small envelope with a stamp.  Hand-addressed with a return address label.  A real letter!

I took it to the couch and opened it.  It was from my Aunt Inez,  my grandmother's older sister, the one that loves to write letters and talk on the phone.  The one that I should have been better about writing, about calling, but haven't been.  Guilt.  She filled me on the latest news, some which I had heard and some which I hadn't.  I realized I would have known all of it if my grandmother was still alive.  So easy to keep up with the family when she was here. I took it for granted.

Her parting words to me, Still miss my little sister, and I know you miss your Grannie.  Find it so hard to believe that she's not down the street.

Me, too.
Grannie, Aunt Dint, Aunt Inez (Hear no evil, See no evil, Speak no evil) 


  1. I love the flow of this piece, Jen, and your thoughts: "Does it still smell like her?" and "What would it be like to run my hands over the steering wheel?"

    The picture is absolutely delightful!

    I suggest you sit down tonight and write Aunt Inez a little letter...not because of guilt, but because you miss the same precious lady.

  2. I know your heart hurts dear one and I know the ebb and flow of grief. Wishing I could give you a big hug and we could swap stories over tea about our dear Grandma's.


  3. So lovely written...the picture is so special, too.

  4. wow...I am just sitting here and letting those words apply to the areas in my life where I need to TREASURE...MORE...

  5. Great post in honor of your grandma and I think the picture is great too.

  6. I love the exuberance of the women in the photo!

  7. Jen, great post. Sending you a hug today, I know this hurts.

    Looking forward to tomorrow's link up. I have a new email address:

    Wishing you a happy day,


  8. I'm so thankful that you have had/still have family where there is so much love.

  9. Oh, I can only hope and pray that I have such a bond with my precious Grans that they will hold me as near to their heart when I'm gone from this earth as you do your Grandmother.

    Blessings this special week!

  10. Jen...this was so very much what I needed to read before heading off tomorrow to spend time with family. It truly is precious time, time we need to treasure. Love you girly, and hope you have an awesome Thanksgiving filled with loads and loads of blessings!!!!!

  11. What a charming post. Stopping over from SITS.

  12. Jen, this is so sweet. And I am right there with you, missing and loving those gone on.


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