My grandmother died yesterday. She was gone as I was writing Tigger's birthday post.
She was 90 years old.
Everyone keeps asking if I am okay. Yes, I am a fine. Really, I am not sad. She is right where she wanted to be. Back with my Grandaddy. And a host of friends. I can just imagine the reunion going on right now in Heaven. And that makes me smile.
I was on a lunch date when I got the call. I didn't know how to react. And I didn't tell my date until lunch was over.
My relationship with my grandmother has always been strained. I was the only girl, until Julz was born. I was the oldest. If she was ever proud of me, she never told me. She always found some way to critize me, or cut me down, or make fun of me.
But I know where a lot of my own personality was shaped. I always say I know where my "Drama Queen Gene" comes from. She was the one who taught me that anything that still had use left in it was not trash.
She could cook and bake and make candy. I wish I had learned how to make her divinity.
Julz did, buying her a new mixer for the task.
She could sew and embroider, making me all kinds of clothing from play clothes to prom gowns.
I have a shelf full of Raggedy Ann's. She could also knit and crochet. I never had the patience to learn.
I'm sure it will hit me later.
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