My Grandma died this week.
Yesterday I took time alone in a flower-filled meadow to think of her and remember good and happy things.
Like her hilarious sneezes that came out a high-pitched, “Acheeya!”
Her brilliant cooking skills. Grandma was one of those amazing women who not only cooked delicious food – peppernuts, Danish pastry, roast pork – she also cooked beautiful food. A feast at her house was a visual feast as much as a culinary one.
And her love for my Grandpa. It makes me laugh to think of her flirting with him, a twinkle in her eyes as she called him Alfie instead of Alfred. She told me once that every night they fell asleep holding hands.
I love that.
I am grateful for the things she taught me: love of travel, love of good food, and devotion to loved ones.
I will always remember her smile. Especially her just-before-bed smile when her false teeth were out and she was just as cute as cute can be.
“Death is but the next great adventure.”