The kids at school found a lifeless bee on this board and covered it with leaves, as one three year old told me, "SO NOBODY EATS IT". Then we had a short service followed by more swinging on the tire swing. And fighting over the tire swing. Then I left exhausted, but happy.
My parents are gone for the weekend, so I've come back home to take care of their dog, and be company for my grandpa who is 93. There are little cards like this all over the house that my grandmother typed up years and years ago, as this is the house two generations have grown up in now. Tomorrow is the 30th anniversary of her passing. I was only 18 months when she died, but I have my own small, slightly fuzzy memories of her. Most importantly, I was raised with her memory. My grandma is still mentioned everyday in the small and insignificant ways usually reserved for those still with us, and I have always felt close to her.