I am thankful that I'm related to my father for one reason: His mother.
I love my grandmother. She passed away in October of 1998 in Vancouver, Washington while I was in Provo, Utah. I didn't cry when I got the news. I wish I could've spent a little more time with her, and it wasn't expected, but I was surprisingly at peace with it.
She was a sweet, willowy, classy lady. Her hair was always done. She loved cheerful colors, her grandchildren, and petunias. She was tiny and smelled like powder and cigarettes, and she always wore lipstick. I think I would look a lot like she did when she was young if I lost, like, more than half of my total body weight. She really was an amazing lady, and I really, really miss her.
I wish she could've been at my wedding. She would like my husband. He would adore her. Everyone did.
She never lost her wits, mobility, or sense of humor. I am glad I didn't have to go through watching her health decline, like so many other people have done and seem to be in the process of doing right now. A lot of people are talking about their grandparents on the forums right now, and that's what made me think of her.
She was one of a kind. I'm certainly not eager for death or anything, but I sure can't wait to see her again.