Grandma...

I was only in the 6th grade when my grandmother died, but I can tell without exception that she was my very best friend. I was the only grandaughter and could do no wrong in her eyes. I spent most every weekend staying with her unless she felt that it was far past one of my brothers' turns to go to her place.

My grandmother wasn't rich or fancy. She got by and didn't need much except the love of her family. If she could give me something, she would and she was so talented at knitting and sewing that many things were homemade.

The year the Cabbage Patch dolls were so big, she tried so hard to get me one and couldn't. She made me one that year and got me one the next. I still have both.

My grandmother got very sick with cancer the year I was in 6th grade. My mom was an only child and my dad from a large family, so sometimes he and grandma didn't see eye to eye on things. However, when she got so sick that she couldn't live alone, he moved her in with us. It was holiday time and quite possibly the best gift she had ever been given was to be invited to live with her daughter and grandchildren.

She watched us decorate that year and enjoyed many of the holiday festivities in her chair with her oxygen tanks humming. A few days before Christmas, my parents rushed her to the hospital during the night. It was the last time I ever saw my grandmother.

Mom and Dad stayed at her side until she was gone and a short time before passing on, she said to my mom, "Dont' Worry, I will be home for Christmas"....I am sure in her mind, she was.

We had the funeral a day or two before Christmas and somehow got through the holiday that year. Each year it has gotten easier, not because we miss her less, but because we remember her more.

I know my grandmother is with me sometimes. I can feel it. After all, I was her only granddaughter....