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Okay, anyone who knows me fairly well will be sufficiently puzzled by that one.

You see, to cast that same mystery for you all, both of my grandmothers have passed on, the last one over 5 years ago now.  It doesn’t seem like that much time has passed, but in the interim, I’ve been to the UK four times, Mexico twice, and rounded it out with single trips to Italy and Egypt.  So, I guess some water has flowed under that bridge.

By comparison, my maternal grandmother has been gone since I was in second grade.  So much water under the bridge…

Anyway, to explain this rambling.  I went downstairs this afternoon and the office phone rang.  I’ve stuck to that # only being something I can answer at the desk.  And I didn’t make it upstairs in time to answer it.  When I did get back upstairs, I had a message from “Grandma” to call her back when I got back.  Someone named “Nina” was visiting and we were going to have pizza tonight.

It’s silly.  I listened to the whole message, and it was prototypically meandering as any grandmotherly message I ever had.  And although she sounded nothing like my grandmother otherwise, you don’t realize until you won’t get those messages anymore how much you’ll miss them.

Lest you think I’m wallowing in misery, I’m not.  It’s a happy nostalgia.  It stirred up fond memories tinged with only a small dose of sadness that they will only recede into the past now.

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