Peggie Herod Obituary

A Tribute to Grandma Peggie

It´s hard to truly express in words the impact my Grandma Peggie had on my life - but here are just a few highlights from the many memories over the years.

Although Grandma lived more than 3,500 miles away for my entire childhood, it never felt like she was that far. Her annual Christmas visit to Howard Cottage was always highly anticipated. The sheer excitement of knowing she´d be at the house when I got home from school was almost too much to contain.

You never knew what she´d show up with in her many suitcases - my first pair of hockey skates, sticks, jerseys, endless memorabilia. She was my first glimpse of the post-war American Dream - a world of abundance and an "anything is possible" attitude - so different from the culture we were surrounded by.

During her month-long visits, she´d attend all my hockey games up and down the country. I´d always seem to find a couple of extra goals when she was in the stands - she loved a good 'hat trick'. I´ll never forget the smile on her face, waiting in the lobby after a game, especially after a 'Man of the Match' performance.

One day, I remember sitting with her back at home in her upstairs flat, replaying the action from the game. She paused and said, "Dan, I love you even if you had no goals and didn´t get 'Man of the Match'. I just love watching you skate." That was Grandma. Proud - of all of us, in her own unique way. She had a gift for connecting with people at their level, much like my mom, Kris.

We each had a special bond with her. She was the voice of reason many times in my life - the first person I´d call to share both life´s joys and its challenges. She cared deeply and carried those highs and lows with me, as if they were her own.

Even when I was an adult, she´d stop by my house on Bramble Ave in Cincinnati. She remained as steadfast and direct as ever - sometimes telling me not what I wanted to hear, but what I needed to hear. That was her love, too.

I´ll always remember her long voicemails, the familiar sound of her shuffling feet, and the ever-present Diet Pepsi - later in life replaced by caffeine-free Coke.

In March of this year, I visited her for the last time at Eagle Creek Nursing Home. The nurse warned me she hadn´t been well or spoken much. But when I walked into her room and she opened her eyes, the first thing she said was, "Dan, I´m glad you´re here. Wow, you look so handsome." Grandma was always good for a confidence boost!!

We sat and talked. I told her how much she meant to me, how much I loved her, and I thanked her for everything. She had tears in her eyes - and that was all I needed to know she understood. That meant everything. Because let´s face it - there´s no goodbye that ever really feels right.

As much as I´ll miss her, I mostly miss her as she was in her healthiest times - vibrant, laughing, and joking. At 94, those days were behind her. And so, I´m at peace knowing she´s truly home now - and that she always knew exactly where she was going.

Grandma, thank you for everything. I love you, I miss you, and I can´t wait to see you again.