“How the hell are ya'” she would say, in her husky
former smoker voice, EVERY TIME she would greet you. She was fiesty, rough, loving and all around amazing. She was my Granny.
I’ve been absent for the last week or so because Granny passed away. She had been on hospice for a while but took a turn for the worse. My family sat with her for three days straight, taking shifts, telling stories, scratching off her instant lottery tickets hoping she could get that big win, and just generally being there with her. She passed early in the morning on August 12th, one day shy of the 2 year anniversary of her daughter’s death.
At the funeral my sister read her, well written, eulogy with a confidence and air that was amazing, Granny would have been proud. She regaled us with stories of my grandmother dressing as a 1970s playboy bunny, when she was in her 70s. Sitting next to an African American woman in the segregated south and chatting away despite being told that the races don’t mix. To quote my sister “She was a single mother before there was a term single mother.” Granny raised and supported 3 kids, alone. She was amazing. Granny was hard of hearing and would get 5 minutes into a phone conversation, that she initiated, only to say “Hold on a minute, I can’t hear you. Let me put in my ear.”
I loved my Granny. She was the matriarch of the family, the glue that held us all together. I, will, and do miss her greatly.