Gramma

We had the memorial service for my grandmother last week.  It was all that a memorial service should be. It was wonderfully beautiful.  It was real.

I know I surprised Gramma (and myself actually) when I boldly stood before a room filled with people, wearing those "perfectly Gramma red stilletos" and gave a eulogy of her BIG life.  The words flowed...the laughter erupted...the tears fell...I was proud of Gramma and her life.  I was proud of myself for telling it.

Afterwards, my mother grabbed me, kissed me, thanked me.  My father looked at me like he didn't know who I was, he was so surprised.  My sisters were astounded, thanking me for honoring our grandmother with my words.  I don't think anyone in my family knew I had it in me.  (I'm more like Gramma than they know...full of all kinds of surprises)

I just wanted people to know a bit about her, like I knew her. I wanted someone who knew her, who loved her unconditionally to be the one who spoke of her great life.  I wanted them to love her like I loved her, to see her sense of humor, her tenacity, her determination.  She was truly a remarkable woman and I wanted HER to know that I thought that of her.  I wanted everyone there to know it too.

I surpassed my own expectations!