Last night the boys snapped the green beans for dinner.
The last time I saw my grandmother before she died was at my parents' house. We were all there for the weekend, and we barbequed, played outside, and took the kids to a local orchard for fruit, rides, and caramel apples. It was a nice weekend. It was also the weekend I first suspected I was pregnant with Everett, and hadn't yet told anyone. But what I'm remembering, what I will always remember when I see fresh green beans, is my grandmother.
Like lots of grandmothers, she so enjoyed taking care of her children and grandchildren. She always kept busy in the kitchen, always prepared wonderful things. Even that weekend, when she was becoming increasingly slowed by her failing health, there was no denying her need to help.
Her assignment that day was the green beans. I can still see her sitting at Mom & Dad's little round wooden table... slowly, deliberately, and happily - always so happy to serve others - snapping those green beans. I have a lot of lovely memories of my grandmother, but that one stays the most vivid in my mind and in my heart... maybe because it was the last time I saw her, maybe because it was one of those little things that truly exemplified her giving spirit. Whatever the reason, I thought of it last night as my own boys prepared the green beans. It made me smile just to watch them, and I know that if she was watching, she was smiling too.
