Since posting my <a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/?p=74">Open letter to Grandma T.</a> and another one to <a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/?p=114">Grandma C.</a> last week, as part of an All Souls Day project organized by <a href="http://www.magpie-girl.com/20081021/an-invitation-to-play-dia-de-los-muertos/">Magpie Girl</a>, some of my blog readers and <a href="http://twitter.com/">Twitter</a> followers have shared memories of their own grandparents. Each one is so beautiful and moving, expressing small yet very telling glimpses of these large personalities. (The first few were written as "tweets," which is why they're so short and sweet!)

I've always been fascinated by memory. The older my grandmothers get, the more interested I become—in my own memories of them, as well as their memories of the past. Some memories shared are best encapsulated as a taste or a smell—miniature marshmallows, waffle cookies, a family pasta sauce recipe or lingering pipe tobacco. Others are wrapped up in a particular experience or a wash of feeling—a long car trip . Whatever form your own remembrances take, whether they're larger than life or miniscule in the broad scope of things, it is important that we remember. When we bring to mind what we know about someone, we are taking what is conceptual and abstract, and making it real again.

<strong>Heather T.</strong><span class="entry-content">
After my pre-K MD visit &amp; the torture of shots(!) my great grandma gave me miniature marshmallows to make me feel better. </span><span class="entry-content"> Also, she let me sneak into Grandma &amp; Grandpa's camper, which was forbidden and AWESOME.</span>

<strong>Marsha K.</strong><span class="entry-content">
[as a] 5 YO, restless on long car trip to Yosemite, [my] grandmother made up a game and played it with me for hours. I learned love.</span>

<strong>Barb C.</strong><span class="entry-content">
My G-ma H gave us "grandma cookies:" waffle kind that come in fake strawberry/choc/van.</span>

<strong>Nancy P.</strong><span class="entry-content">
</span><span class="entry-content">Filipino g-parents inhale you when they give you a kiss. Hard to describe w/out demonstrating. They put their face to your cheek &amp; as they kiss you they inhale. Emphasis on the inhale. Miia calls it the "lola kiss."</span>

Lola (grandma in Tagalog) was quite a special woman to me and my whole family. She moved in with us when I was 8, my sister was 5 and my brother was a few months old. She lived with us until I was a freshman in high school-taking care of us, cooking, helping us with our homework. She was the 3rd parent not just a grandma. As I look back, I realize we were so lucky to have her in our lives. It didn’t matter what she was doing, she always had a story to tell us. Something would reminder her of a person or an event in her past and she would start, “When I was a little girl…â€ or “Did I tell you about…â€ Some days, I would think, “Oh no, not again.â€ But most days, I thought she was the most magical woman I knew.

<span class="entry-content">I fondly remember Tatay (my grandpa) smelling of pipe tobacco, coffee-chocolate candy and Aqua Velva. He </span><span class="entry-content">always wore a tweed jacket, dress pants, a button-down shirt (short or long sleeves depending on the weather) &amp; a tweed hat. My other g-ma (Nanay) was a beauty queen. She was/is very regal &amp; imposing in a way. I used to be afraid of her until she smiled.</span>

<strong> Becky C.</strong>
My sister and I were just together, which is usually about an annual event, since I live in England and she in Northern Florida. But, our 82 year old mother was in hospital in Jacksonville and so I made a quick trip. We started reminiscing about our Gramma, our mother<span class="text_exposed_show">’s mother, who we both miss greatly. Our biggest memories were of how she usually had a cold beer in her hand, carefully wrapped in a paper towel, how she'd make us each any cake at all we requested for our birthdays (our younger brother once had a baby blue one!), and of how she somehow imparted to us that pixies and fairies truly exist. It turns out my sister and I have slightly different ideas about how she knew this, but they were all lovely stories. She had a big heart, a great sense of fun, creativity, generosity and curiosity, and many friends. She was a pretty perfect grandmother for both me and my sister and we are really rather different characters. I think that says a lot!</span>

<strong>Denine B.</strong>
One of my favorite memories with Nanny - sitting in her kitchen, at her elbow, hearing the story of our family's pasta sauce. Alone with her in there, with all her special ingredients and tools, hearing the changes the recipe absorbed throughout the different generations made me feel like I was charged with keeping vital secrets! Getting to stir <span class="text_exposed_show">and taste the sauce was amazing, but the company and the stories were the best parts. That and sneaking a meatball off the plate before she plopped them into the sauce, that is! I do the same thing with my little Lulu now, and each time we make sauce and I see the excitement on her face and hear her recite bits and pieces of the stories from her memory, I feel I have my Nanny back with me again. </span>