In Memorium

Granny, as my mother was called for the last 28 years of her life, passed away a year ago today. I miss her as much now as I did on the day of her funeral. I used to call her every Sunday morning and while I had my coffee, we would chat for at least an hour about the family, our lives, politics and a myriad of other subjects. She loved jokes and always had a new one to tell me every week.

Granny was frank to a fault, but loved with all her heart. She was definitely not a perfect person, but she loved her kids and her grandkids and would have done anything to make us happy. She used to spend hours and hours down in the floor playing with my kids, and they always loved it when she came to visit us, even after we moved to Oregon and they grew up.

She gave me my love of books and classic movies. When I was young, I can remember sitting in her lap and watching old movies on a small B&W TV while she explained the plot to me.

I was standing beside her as she was ironing clothes on the day that JFK was shot, and I remember asking her why she was crying...and she told me someone was trying to kill hope.

She was the artistic person in our family. She could sew, paint, and she loved to handcraft decorations for all her children's homes. Once she got onto a kick of making stuffed rabbits in cute outfits and sent so many to my house that I swore the things were breeding when I wasn't looking. She painted a mural on the whole side of my aunt's shed and though she didn't start painting until very late in her too short life, she had a great flair for color and a wonderful sense of perspective.

The last time I saw her, she called me her angel and told me she would meet in the next life. She was my mother, my friend, and I miss her.