Today would have been my grandmother’s 75th birthday. Although we lost her a year and two days ago, it still doesn’t seem real. I feel like I should still be waking up to make a pot of coffee–exactly two and a half scoops to 12 cups of water and just enough milk to make it look like milk chocolate. Everyone should be as lucky as I was to grow up surrounded by her love.
She was gracious, loving, and a huge flirt, but she was totally devoted to my grandfather. They were together over 50 years, and I’m sure it still didn’t seem like long enough to her. I still remember her face when I told her he was gone. She was inconsolable, and the two months she survived him seemed like torture for her. I know she is with him now, and I can only imagine how happy they were to be reunited. Although I will never stop missing her, I will also never forget her and all of the lessons I learned from her. Happy 75th birthday, Mamaw!
A little something that makes me think of my grandparents…
