Remembering a Beautiful Woman, A Grand Lady

My Grandmother, whom you've read about and seen pictured here numerous times, passed away last Sunday afternoon. You may remember that she turned 90 in March.



My God, she was fun and funny.



I'm so glad that Brian got to see her at Christmas, last year; though he couldn't see her much over the last couple of years, he adored her.


And my heart melts at some of my memories. She was always, always, her children's mother:

And Our Grandmother.

Memories flood me.

• As kids, we'd spend a week at a time in her country home. Fresh air, gardening, canning, and digging potatoes ensued.
  
• No TV!
• My sister and I would spend hours—hours!—in her apple tree. It was a great old tree that you could just lie back in, like a cheetah.
  
• We once spent a couple of hours in that tree with our eyes closed and ears plugged as Grandma & uncles killed what seemed like 100 chickens. They really do run around after you cut off their heads! We had no idea. We were mortified! Traumatized! Simply appalled!
• 1000s of hands of Gin Rummy and Crazy 8s.
• Rum Cake—my recipe is hers, and a winner every time.
• The smell of coffee brewing long before the sun came up.
• Her laugh—she'd take off laughing and I'd stop and listen to it, when I was 12 years old, and when I was 45. I wanted to memorize it— she laughed with her heart and her gut.
• Her no B.S. stance, no matter what the situation. Grandma didn't pull punches. I still laugh at her running over my uncle's foot with her wheelchair about a year ago, and saying "well, if a person doesn't have sense enough to get out of the way, it's his own fault."

I remember her almost when she was at the age I am now. I remember her strong and young, and bold and energetic.

And I remember her also, softer, aged, sentimental and lovely.

I love all that she was, and I feel fortunate to have had this lady in my life for so many years. She will remain in my heart forever.