Yes I would like to add my memories of a Loved Grandmother, to me, and Aunt Maime to most people who she was acquainted with.
The Old House in St.Johns
I lovingly recall Sunday at Grandmother's. Those dog day summer afternoons at her home. The old two-room house with the added kitchen on the north and bedroom on the south. The room where Grandpa was always in bed. I didn't know why but later learned he had a broken hip.
Today they would have screwed a piece of metal to his leg and attached a socket to his hip bone and told him to stand up and walk or lay in bed and die. Which he did.
Back to my memories; of picking up mulberries from the tarp spread on the ground to catch the berries that was shook from the tree by the uncles and my father. Yes they sure made good pies by loving hands. Grandma was a good cook. Gooseberries picked from her garden was also good pie fruit.
When it was cold the house was always warm. Warmed by a hot stove but more so by the love she radiated. There was always a Graham cracker, a broken piece of pine gum from the tin plate she cooked it on. A warm hug, a loving smile, which remained with her.
This smile was there when with my parents we visited her in Show Low. That loving smile is my memory of my Grandmother.