Today would have been my grandmother’s birthday. She died unexpectedly in early December and I honestly couldn’t have predicted the size of the hole left in my heart. I miss her every day and frequently find myself forgetting she is gone. A few weeks ago I found myself bookmarking a cake to bake for her birthday, a cake I no longer need to plan to make.
There are a thousand wonderful things that I could say about her, but probably the thing that I remember about her the most is how she was the absolute master of the little things in life. Whenever you went there, it was like she was always waiting for you. She would have your favorite food, your favorite pop. She saved me coupons from my favorite fast food place and articles she thought I would enjoy reading. She would ask you about your life and listen intently to your mundane stories about school or work, but if you wanted to sit in the quiet she would just sit with you.
My grandmother was a quiet woman. One you would almost overlook upon first meeting her. But she loved you intensely and she always made sure that you could feel that love even from a thousand miles away. Everyone who knew her loved her, could recount a story of when she helped them up when they had fallen.
She always encouraged creativity. If my sister and I could dream it, she would let us create it. She would cut out pictures of crafts and baking projects from magazines to inspire us. She would let us destroy her kitchen with flour and sugar to experiment. (And since she had 6 kids, there was always someone about to eat our “creations”) Without her, I don’t know if I would be as fearless in the kitchen, willing to tear apart the kitchen in a frenzy to chase down some new project or idea that I had seen. Without her I don’t know if I would have been a lot of things.
Happy Birthday Grandma. I miss you so so much.
