Update

So here we are in Georgia.   And our moving van, along with all our worldly belongings, is no where to be found.   Last we heard, it may even still be in Maryland.   I think the moving crew was more than a little ticked off that we didn’t feed them much while they were packing.   But seriously, I am hoping that we aren’t soon to be part of a Dateline exclusive on moving company fraud.

So here we are in Georgia, and here I am in Starbucks with Casey’s laptop (as the home computer is on said moving van), and I am already broaching past the hour I promised to be home within.

All is not awful, inspite of missing our things.   We have been treating life like a vacation, living out of our suitcases as we are.   We checked out the Atlanta Zoo on Saturday, have been out to eat nearly every night, and have been exploring the local parks and shopping centers.   So we’re having fun, but it sure is hard to feel settled.

On a more somber note, I lost my dear Grandma Kay two nights ago.   She was my namesake, Kristjana, and turned 96 in June.   A native of Iceland, she was without a doubt, the most joyful woman I ever met.   She was a mom to three boys, three grandkids, and four great-grands, and an urban working girl in downtown San Francisco long past her retirement age.   She was loved by all who met her, an infectious personality, sweet and always ladylike.   In fact, she never wore a pair of pants until recently, and then under great restraint.   She once did a day’s secretarial work for Ty Cobb,  but refused payment, stating that it was her honor to work for him.   He eventually repaid her with a very chic powder set from an expensive department store.   Sweet Grandma Kay never even took it out of the box, claiming that it was too expensive to use.   She used to call our house every Sunday after church, announcing herself, “This is Grandma Kay, from San Francisco!”   I never saw her get angry, though she was not shy about sharing her righteous indignation over a lack of manners or an injustice.   She buried two husbands and a son in her 96 years, and outlived most of her friends.   My Dad will be hosting a party to celebrate her life in her downtown townhouse, 7 blocks from the ocean and 3 blocks from the San Francisco Zoo, where she lived for as long as I can remember, and then even before that.   Kenny and I went to visit her when he was 7 months old, and when I put him down for a nap after lunch, she said, “I believe that it would be wise if we all laid down for a nap, don’t you think?”   And when the clock in her dining room announced that it was five o’clock, she would be the first to offer cocktails, or perhaps a Sprite “with a kick.”   I visited her right around her 90th birthday, and together her and I walked up to the cross on Mount Davidson, which you can see from her kitchen window.   I have to admit, I really thought she might outlive me, she was that zesty.

I will miss you, Grandma Kay!