Last night, I was given a treat. My grandma made dinner for me. Now yes, it may have been more “proper” for me to cook dinner for her with all that she’s been through, but my grandma has the biggest servant’s heart. She makes a mean plate of spaghetti and she knows how much I love her spaghetti.
It’s been a few months since she finished her last chemotherapy treatment and while she’s now taking chemo pills, she’s feeling much better and a whole lot stronger. Walking into my grandparent’s house and seeing my grandma bustling around the kitchen was such a welcome sight. It felt like I was 16 again and the word cancer had never been uttered in connection to my grandma.
The spaghetti was delicious, the bread tasty, and the conversation charming. It was just the four of us sitting around the dinner table: me, my mom, my grandma, and my grandfather. We talked about the rescue of the Chilean miners, my cousins and their crazy high school, and our lives.
After dinner, my grandfather headed off to church and the three of us ventured into the living room to chat. My mom and my grandma are two of my very best friends and one of my favorite things in life is to sit in my grandma’s living room and talk. They are full of such wisdom and life and inspiration. I can talk with them about anything and it helps that they think I’m pretty awesome.
It was the perfect evening and I just pray we have more and more of these evenings.