Normally I’d blog about my experiences at Fantasticon Fort Wayne last week. Unfortunately, tragedy is postponing that.

On Monday, October 31, 2016, my grandmother, Ruth Sitton, died of natural causes at the age of 94. She was my last living grandparent.

A large portion of my childhood was spent at Grandma’s house in Arcola, Indiana, growing up. She and Grandpa Max were my first babysitters. Mom and Dad took me and my siblings there almost every Sunday after church. Whenever a new baby arrived in our family, we went to their house. If any of us wanted a little getaway, we went to their house. Every Halloween we went to Arcola for trick-or-treating. When Christmas Day rolled around, the family always gathered at their house for gifts, food, and fun. When I started college, Grandma, now a widow, gracious let me live in her house and commute to school for the first three semesters I was there.

Ruth, like a typical grandmother, always spoiled her grandkids, especially us, it seemed. We were never allowed to be hungry at her house. She always made sure we ate our meals and was generous with snacks throughout the day (she had an endless supply of Skittles). It was at her house I discovered the joys of video games, cable TV, and the internet, much of which I didn’t have at home. I have fond memories of her driving me into video stores in Fort Wayne, which I would explore looking for new video games and movies to experience.

But it wasn’t just media that made visiting Grandma (and Grandpa) great. She lived by a hill, which was great for sledding. She and Grandpa took me on a special trip to the Oshkosh air show. We went on bike rides throughout Arcola (although that was more of a Grandpa Max thing). She usually had some eccentric animal—whether it was her cats Fluff or Theodore or her Yorkshire Terrier, Pebbles—to keep us entertained.

Grandma Ruth has always been there. Even when she moved to the nursing homes, I had the comfort of knowing she was around. Now, for the first time in my life, I have no grandparents. I’d hoped that, whether in person or not, she’d be around to see me get married. I guess that was always a fool’s hope.

Thank you, Grandma Ruth, for all your generosity, kindness, and hospitality! I miss you so very much, but I know you’re happy in the house you dreamt Grandpa Max built for the two of you in heaven.

Until we meet again.

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