SwirlinLingerie
Well-Known Member
My grandmother passed away this morning. She was 95 and got to die peacefully at home in her sleep.
She was a 1936 graduate of the University of Iowa - that's a couple years before Nile Kinnick won the Heisman.
The thing we shared over the years, more than anything else, was a love for the Hawkeyes. Growing up, she usually called our house after a big win, especially if it was over the Cyclones, a team she never learned to accept. There were points in recent years when we still talked after an exciting victory.
One of the last times I saw my grandmother was in October. I flew to Minneapolis for a weekend wedding, and between dinner and the reception, a couple friends and I stopped at a bar to watch the 4th quarter of the Iowa/Michigan State game.
The next morning, I rented a car and drove down to Central Iowa to spend a couple hours with my grandparents before my evening flight back to Seattle. Within a couple minutes of being in my grandparents' house, my grandmother and I started talking about the unbelievable finish the night before.
My grandmother's voice was weak and raspy from being 95 years old; my voice was weak and raspy from yelling at Ken O'Keefe to roll Stanzi out on the last series.
Despite that, we looked at each other and glowed. The Hawkeyes always had that effect on us.
As we sat there reliving the glory from the night before, basking in the undefeated record and magical ride, I asked her if Iowa was going to the Rose Bowl. She winked at me, struggling to raise her voice, and said "I already have my tickets."
One day I'll be in Pasadena when the black and gold swarm takes the field. I'll be caught up in the euphoria, but I'm guessing I'll shed a happy tear thinking about my grandma, too.
Nothing binds the state and the generations together like the Hawkeyes.
Go Hawkeyes, grandma. We'll miss you.
She was a 1936 graduate of the University of Iowa - that's a couple years before Nile Kinnick won the Heisman.
The thing we shared over the years, more than anything else, was a love for the Hawkeyes. Growing up, she usually called our house after a big win, especially if it was over the Cyclones, a team she never learned to accept. There were points in recent years when we still talked after an exciting victory.
One of the last times I saw my grandmother was in October. I flew to Minneapolis for a weekend wedding, and between dinner and the reception, a couple friends and I stopped at a bar to watch the 4th quarter of the Iowa/Michigan State game.
The next morning, I rented a car and drove down to Central Iowa to spend a couple hours with my grandparents before my evening flight back to Seattle. Within a couple minutes of being in my grandparents' house, my grandmother and I started talking about the unbelievable finish the night before.
My grandmother's voice was weak and raspy from being 95 years old; my voice was weak and raspy from yelling at Ken O'Keefe to roll Stanzi out on the last series.
Despite that, we looked at each other and glowed. The Hawkeyes always had that effect on us.
As we sat there reliving the glory from the night before, basking in the undefeated record and magical ride, I asked her if Iowa was going to the Rose Bowl. She winked at me, struggling to raise her voice, and said "I already have my tickets."
One day I'll be in Pasadena when the black and gold swarm takes the field. I'll be caught up in the euphoria, but I'm guessing I'll shed a happy tear thinking about my grandma, too.
Nothing binds the state and the generations together like the Hawkeyes.
Go Hawkeyes, grandma. We'll miss you.
