My Grandmother passed away this morning.
There's really no gentle way to lead into that.
I debated whether or not to write anything, whether I should grieve in private or allow my words and thoughts to be out there for everyone to see. Writing about it just seems right for me, even if my words come out jumbled or a bit nonsensical.
She was sweet.
Well..I don't know that I would call her sweet. Not that she wasn't. But because she was so much more than that. She was feisty. She loved to dance. She gave the best hugs. And made the best pecan tarts you could ever imagine. She was the matriarch in every sense of the word. She loved her family with a devout fierceness.
If her life has taught me anything, it's family. FAMILY, FAMILY, FAMILY. Every thing else will fall by the way side, but family will always be there to pick you back up. Children are the only real legacy one leaves. And her legacy lives on in her 5 surviving children, 14 grandchildren, and countless (For the record, I tried to count them, but dang we are some fertile people) great-grandchildren.
When I think of her, I don't remember the cancer that took her. I remember the strength she showed when battling and defeating cancer the first time around. I remember the way she loved my Grandpa. I remember the happiness on her face when celebrating their 50 year anniversary. I remember the YooHoos and Little Debbie cakes she would spoil us with. I remember the slipper socks and $10 bills that she'd buy every grandchild every single Christmas.
I know that she's somewhere up there with Grandpa dancing a two step or sitting on a porch swing. She's embracing her sons, her grandsons and her brother.
She's at peace. And I'm at peace knowing that after nearly 9 years, she can finally be with Grandpa.
Love you and miss you. Thanks for the memories, Maw.