Remembering my Grandma

My grandmother passed away early this morning at 95. I know that it was time, but I don’t think you can ever be truly ready. She was one of my favorite people in the world, and it’s hard to imagine a world without her in it. She was beautiful, when she was in her 30’s up there holding my Dad, when she was 60 down there at the beach, and when she was 80. How many ladies in their 60’s can rock a swimsuit like this?? Not many! She was cool, when she wasn’t supposed to be… (That’s me in the hideous jacket.)And she was mine. I know she belonged to others, but when she was with me, she was mine and I loved her. Christian said she was like my Maw Maw and Paw Paw, and that she was. Every summer, when all her kids and grandkids would get together she was happy. She didn’t even mind my cousin’s uni-bomber beard, or my awesome tube socks. She was a free-spirit and encouraged us to be free-spirits, too. I followed her lead.After being a widow for over 10 years, she met Frank and married him when I was nine. Here they are on their wedding day. I think at first I wasn’t too keen on sharing Grandma with anyone, but eventually I figured it was okay, and I loved Grandpa, too. They picked me up from school, pushed me to do homework, watched me in the summer, came to my baseball games, confirmation, ring mass, graduation and anything else I could throw at them. Ignore the blond hair. I am.   She came to my wedding shower, and they were there at my wedding. She fixed me lunch most days on my break when I worked close by and always took requests. She came to my baby shower, waited by the phone to hear I had my babies, and held both my boys when they were tiny. Then things started to shift. I helped move her and Grandpa into an assisted living place when their place became too much for them. I took the keys from Grandpa when driving was no longer an option. I drove her to appointments and therapy. I tried to explain and console her when there was no consoling after I gave her the news that her son, my dad, had passed away. I brought her to the funeral when Grandpa died and explanations weren’t needed and memories became fuzzy.  After Katrina she went to live with my Aunt in Oklahoma, and although I knew it was best, I was sad because I knew I’d probably never see her again. I didn’t. I think that when you look at a life and try to see what kind of person they were, the best way to know their character is to know how people felt about them. My grandmother was loved, and I mean really loved. If you knew her, you loved her, it’s just the way it was. She was beautiful on the inside and out. She had only one flaw, if you could call it a flaw, that I ever noticed and that was that when she loved you, she overlooked your shortcomings and fought for you whether you deserved it or not. Considering how many of my shortcomings she overlooked, I’m going to consider that flaw a gift to those of us that reaped the benefits. So, although today seems like an ordinary day, it’s not. The world lost a little piece of pure happiness today, and while it won’t stop spinning, it will never be the same.