Family and friends from near and far gathered this past weekend to celebrate Grandma Rose’s 80th birthday. Grandma Rose is truly an angel on earth whose loving, kind, quiet and gentle way is the medicine those of us fortunate enough to call her “Grandma” needed and wanted as children when we were sick…or at least pretending to be sick.

There are a few years between me and my childhood, but even now, when I’m not feeling well, I often find my dreams filled with grandma’s soft soothing humming. It’s hard to put into words the gratitude and love we all have for this selfless saint of a women that manages to see the good in each of us no matter how deep we sometimes bury it.

It was enjoyable seeing so many that have shared in Grandma’s life at her party wishing her well and sitting down for a visit with the birthday girl. It’s hard to fathom the extent a single person’s influence can extend through time, but after seeing how many people took the time to venture out into the arctic air to be a part of Grandma’s celebration I’m confident her reach will extend beyond my years on this earth.

Whether March came in like a lion or a lamb is up for debate. The day wasn’t particularly blustery and the sun was shining but it was colder than the stares I got from all my former elementary teachers that came to grandma’s party. Just kidding, they all smiled and said, “Hello” but I kept a watchful eye on them just in case they came with revenge on their minds. They say that time heals all wounds but they never say exactly how much time…they need to be more precise so I know when I can quit worrying about retaliation.

If you ask me the sun was wasting it’s time. If you’re going to shine, shine warm…that’s the same advice my interpretive dance coach gave me right before I stepped on stage for the national “Jazz Hands are Happy Hands” competition. I was narrowly defeated by a former cosmonaut in a highly controversial and scandalous judging fiasco rumored to have been orchestrated by the Russian mafia. Not wanting to risk having a spirit finger snapped, I left well enough alone, took my second place trophy, and went on to enjoy great success as a hand stunt double in power tool and dish soap commercials.

That being said, I think the lamb wins the March 1st battle due to the simple fact that I spotted several lambs out and about on that frigid day but neither hide nor hair of a single lion. Could a lamb beat a lion in a one on one face off? I think Marlin Perkins answered that question years ago in the Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom episode, “Lamb Chops”. Shari Lewis’s hand was not harmed in the making of that episode.

The North Dakota air was brisk, the conversation was lively, and, as always, the Chrest kids organized a fine get together fueled by more food than anyone could ever consume…no matter how hard we tried. Fear not, none of the leftovers went to waste. Grandma taught us better than that.

Grandma Rose has given each of us more love and kindness than we could ever use, leaving us leftovers to share for many generations to come. The sweetest flowers never stop blooming.