My father's mother had four sons - she knew a little something about being tough.
She was born at the end of World War I, survived the Great Depression, World War II, and sending a son to Vietnam and then ushered in a new century and a new millenium.
She beat breast cancer 35 years ago, long before survival was common.
She made the best gravy.
She always encouraged my creativity, taking me to the craft store in the summer and letting me pick something new to try.
She agreed to ride shotgun with my 18-year old BFF from Ohio to Maryland cause it was the only way Rea's parents would agree to let her drive to my high school graduation.
She never wanted to be a bother.
She had a great laugh.
My grandma died a week ago today.
It is a testament to how she was the actual center of this seemingly male-dominated family that all of her kids (4 sons, 4 daughters-in-law and even one ex-daughter-in-law), all of her grandkids and their spouses (including 2 estranged ones that haven't been to any family event in at least a decade), a lot of her great-grandkids and a few great-great-grandkids came together to honor her and share our grief.
But i find myself not that sad about her passing.
She lived a good, long life, at the end she was ready to go, she believed in Heaven and I know that my grandma continues to live on in each and every one of us that was touched by her love.