Mom, Cherri, don't read this.

I thought about my grandmother last night, because I made Angels on Horseback for a snack. Saltines, pb, and marshmallows toasted in the oven. I usually think of her in the mornings because breakfast seemed to be her specialty and where the world's vegetable oil supply made its exit. I wonder if she were still here would she still be making breakfast for us or would we be making it for her. Either way, I would like to be able to talk to her about things over breakfast. I can still here her saying "Baby, you should just...or Baby, you can... or Baby, you tell them they can just...". That is the thing about her. Everyone one would still be the baby to her. Usually, you are replaced by the newest member of the family, but I am convinced that she would still think of me as the baby. And Stewart as her #1 grandchild. I tease my mom when she calls and says, "how's my baby? or what is my baby doing?". I say, " I'm fine or I'm not up to much.", knowing good and well that she didn't mean ME! We were talking this weekend about how you look back and think if I could only go back, I wouldn't let this or that bother me, because it certainly wouldn't now, or I would take advantage of that time with a certain person. My mom says that she would be proud now to take her Dad somewhere in his white socks with dress pants though she felt differently when she was younger. If I could go back, I would slam my car door as hard as I could when I got home so Mawmaw would hear me get home and come out of her house and say she had something to give me or something for me to do. That used to drive me and Stew crazy so we would roll down the driveway as quiet as possible and sometimes leave the car door open so we wouldn't make any noise (she lived behind us), only to have the phone ring as soon as we got in the house. Mostly, I think I wish that Mawmaw were here so she could see her great grandchildren and enjoy them. Most importantly, so she could tell us how to do things for them. And I would listen.