aunt and uncle. (To this day, I have still never ridden in a limousine.) The cemetery plot was familiar; my grandfather had passed away eight years earlier. I remember standing there and being very cold while the prayers were read. (I wore a dark navy suit with a short skirt - not my brightest decision.) I was handed her flag and told that my grandmother had wanted me to have it; it didn't come as a huge surprise because my grandfather's flag had gone to my older cousin, and I was the second-oldest. I still felt honored to have it. I took it with me to college and graduate school, and it has always symbolized my grandmother's presence.
So, why is the flag in my kitchen? Grandma was a pretty darn good cook, and she LIKED cooking for her loved ones. I am not a good cook, and I do not enjoy being in the kitchen. On those days when I really don't feel like making dinner (pretty much everyday), I can always look at the flag and remember how much she enjoyed it. Sometimes it motivates me; sometimes it doesn't. And I'm always secretly hoping that some divine intervention on her part will make me a better cook. At least I was blessed with a husband who will pretty much eat anything. :-)
©2012, copyright Emily Kowalski Schroeder