When I was a little girl we had a neighbor named Mrs. Rosener. She was a widow and was old. I don't know how old but I do know she was "grandma aged". I don't know how old I was either but it was some time around kindergarten and 2nd grade that I started visiting her. I remember going over to her house and watching her crochet to wheel of fortune. I can safely say she was the person that made me love yarn, fiber and crochet. I remember her talking about her children and how she always wanted a daughter but got 4 or 5 boys instead.
As I got older, like 5th or 6th grade, she started to have really bad memory problems. She would think that I was there to play with one of her sons and I would humor her and sit one her couch and crochet with her until dark. All the while she would be telling me that I was such a nice girl and she would ask me which of the boys I was interested in.
I never really found out what happened to her. We moved in the middle of 6th grade and I never got to visit like I did before.
I think of her every so often and wonder what she was like as a young woman and as a mom. I remember the stories she told me, like of her family going to Colorado in a covered wagon and her first set of glasses.
I loved her.