Cremation
I first met them when I was only 11.
I spent the whole summer of 1989 at their house. On my first visit I spilled orange soda all over the white carpet, while Jeremy and I played Contra. All Albert could say was, “Now how are you going to drink your soda through the floor?”
He was always good for a laugh. Every time I came over he would always offer me, “a head of lettuce, can of corn, or a slice of scrapple.”
Gram, as I quickly came to call her, would always have a fresh batch of peanut butter cookies waiting for me, because they were my favorite. They became my family, and I their grandson, not just their grandson’s friend. Even though the two of them are no longer with us now, their laughter and memories live on with us. Each time I see a photograph of them I’m reminded of the orange soda, lettuce and corn, that putrid stench of scrapple, Gram’s cookies and all the good times. I still miss them, but each photo makes it a little easier.
