Tribute

Today is the funeral for my childhood "day care lady." That term doesn't quite fit my relationship to her, in the sense that I was her only "day care kid." So she was really more like a grandma that lived three doors down that took care of me before and after school.

We would play cards and Yahtzee in the afternoons. She would let me watch TV for a while, and then warn me that too much TV would give me "mushy brains." She made me dinner sometimes, and gave me a taste for sauerkraut (she served it hot, with pot roast and buttered bread on the side).

Her husband was a janitor at an elementary school, and sometimes we would go visit him at work. He taught me how to tie my shoes and I used to like to watch him shave (the smell of Old Spice still reminds me of him) and watch him lace up his Red Wing work boots. He passed away several years ago, and since then my day care lady faced depression and declining health.

My family moved to the adjoining town when I was entering 3rd grade, but we got together for pie with my day care lady and her husband for years. My relationship with her faded over time, but she was at my wedding - the last time I saw her - and I sent her cookies (a favorite recipe that we used to make together) when she was living in assisted care in December.

It is interesting to have grown up part-time with an old-fashioned, working class couple from an older generation. I know that so much of who I am today was instilled in me at that young age in that household, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.