Week 28: Grandma K is 90 Today

Today is my Grandma Rita Kottenstette's 90th birthday. This past weekend her friends and family celebrated her life with a party in Pueblo, Colorado. Music, food, dancing and a great crowd celebrated an unforgettable afternoon.

We watched a slideshow of pictures from her life. We shared lunch. We listened to her sing some of her favorite songs with her choir. And then we danced to live music. Yes. My Grandma K danced on her 90th birthday.

A lot has happened in the last week or so...I got my roadtrip I've been craving. I spent time with family. I caught up with old college friends. I met some new friends. I cuddled a baby and tickled nephews and held my grandparents' hands. I hugged the necks of bunches of people I love.

I filled out a 3.5"x5" card recording favorite things about my Grandma. And let me just say: 3.5"x5" is not big enough to say what I feel about my Grandma. So I decided to dedicate this blog to her.

Here goes: I love her smile. I love that she can always see the bright side of something. She's a "glass half full" kinda girl. She loves music and life and dancing. She knows the way to any kid's heart...no matter how young or old they are.

Her social calendar puts mine to shame.

She makes a mean peanut brittle. And when she moved into her apartment on Main Street she got to know all the firemen on a first-name basis because they were always responding to her extremely sensitive smoke detector...Did she give up making peanut brittle? No. She just made sure she had a little gift box of peanut brittle ready for the firemen...

I love that she thinks that Apartment 505 is the best place she's ever lived. I love that she has front row seats to any goings-on in the downtown area...especially the parades.

I love that she picked a purple couch for her apartment.

I love that (back when Grandpa was courting her) she told my Grandpa that she'd just find someone else to take her out when he called on a Friday to say he wouldn't make it up to Denver that night. And I love that Grandpa got in trouble for climbing the fire escape trying to get up to the resident level of the hospital Grandma worked at. I love that she missed the whole escapade because she had gone out without him.

I love her laugh.

I love that she only drove a car for two weeks out of her life, but she's traveled more than a lot of people I know.

I love that she didn't learn to ride a bike till she was close to 40. Then she joined a bicycling club and only gave it up when "they all went and died on her."

I love that she loves red. I love that she loves polka dots.

I love that she knows how to sit in a porch swing and just rock. I love my memories of the sounds of summer nights on her porch with the soft glow of lights from inside pooling on the porch and the chains of the swing creaking slowly above.

I love that she loved the same man for 50 years. And I love that she was happy for 20 years before she met Grandpa. And she's been happy for the last 20 years since he's been gone.

I love her recipe for pumpkin rolls. I love that I made it myself for the first time this past autumn.

I love that she can't swim but she's still gone rafting. And she still went paddle boating on the Arkansas River with me this past July.

I love that she's not even 5 feet tall and she wears a size 9 shoe.

I love that she had 10 kids who had 31 kids who in turn have had 30 kids give or take and counting.

I love the childhood memories of all the cousins running through the house and yard...sliding down stairs and charging barefoot through the grass. I love the smell of cigarette smoke curling around people playing cards, talking and laughing. I love the sound of rolling dice and victorious cheering.

I love that Grandma never smoked but she never made anyone feel bad if they did.

I love that I got my love of Get Smart, I Dream of Jeannie, and Bewitched from staying up late and watching Nick at Night on her television set.

I love that she shared a profound insight with me about divorce. She hasn't been divorced, but she's watched several of them go down. She told me: "Divorce is worse than death. With death there is a sense of finality. There is no finality with divorce." I love that she reminds me that I am not a failure just because I got divorced. She reminds me that I am a success because I loved...because I still love. I learned that from her.

I love that I associate holidays with her house and with my big, fun family. I love that it doesn't matter who we are or where we go or how long it's been... We all fall in together, the same blood running through our veins. We have the same love for an amazing woman, my Grandma Rita.

Happy Birthday, Grandma. I love you. And I hope to be just like you someday...starting today.