Her latest morsel of found wisdom: “Once the glue of the family passes away the holidays just aren't the same anymore.” We are still teaching Doodle all the ins and outs of social media, but she has mastered the skill of sharing photos she finds on Facebook. When I came back to Grounds after Thanksgiving this past winter, I had a Facebook message waiting for me from my grandmother. My grandmother working as a cigarette girl. “Route 66 (Get Your Kicks On)” by Nat King Cole. “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” by The Platters.But my Doodle is strong, and she is resilient, and she does not go down without a fight.Ī sign that my mom and her siblings made for my grandmother when she came home from the hospital after the accident. It took months and months of recovery before she was able to adjust back to life as normal, some of her injuries affecting her until this day. For a while it was unclear whether she would make it out of the hospital, but by the grace of God and many talented doctors, she pulled through. My mother’s luck did not extend to my grandmother, who sustained life-threatening injuries and had to be airlifted by helicopter to the University of Maryland Shock Trauma center. Decades later, that very same teddy bear still sits in my mother's bedroom after undergoing some emergency surgery. That teddy bear saved her life, and she survived with minor injuries. My mother would have gone through the front windshield if it had not been for my uncle, who threw a teddy bear in front of her face, protecting her from the initial impact and glass. The driver crossed over three lanes of traffic before colliding head-on with my grandmother’s Bonneville. On Monday, Februmy grandmother was hit by a drunk driver while my mother and uncle were sitting in the front seat. There is nothing more important than family.Never order a crabcake outside of Maryland-not even if they say it's from Maryland.Go with a winner (especially when it comes to believing in Santa Claus).Know everything you can about someone because there is always more to know.You never get a second chance to make a first impression.My grandmother’s high school yearbook in which she was described as “naughty but nice” Hallmark should give her some kind of prize for the amount of hours she has spent walking the aisles of their greeting card section looking for the perfect card, the perfect sentiment. She would talk to anyone and everyone that came through the building, chatted with all she shared an elevator with, and remembered every holiday, birthday, and anniversary. It would be cheaper than buying one for everyone she’s befriended. Her boss would always say that he was going to have buttons made that read, “I don’t know June Gleadall,” since he would only need to get a handful made. It’s a running joke in our family that she has never met a stranger because she makes friends everywhere she goes. If you ever meet her, I am sure you would agree and the chances you’ve crossed paths with her are surprisingly high. If you are aware of another Doodle, please do not enlighten me to this fact because there is no other Doodle like my Doodle. I would like to believe that this a unique nickname, that there are no other Doodles in the world. It was that day my childhood mind decided two things: I joined in, despite not knowing the lyrics, with my own version of how the sound should end. Cause I love you a bushel and a peck, you bet your pretty neck I do, doodle oodle oh. I would sit on those barstools and watch her cook, singing “A Bushel and a Peck” under her breath. It was in this kitchen that I bestowed my grandmother with the nickname Doodle. A very simple, hard-to-mess-up recipe some would say, but I am convinced nobody can make them as well as my grandmother. The barstools in the kitchen: those are reserved for eating toaster waffles topped with cinnamon sugar and butter.
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