Sometimes you're just sad and there isn't anything you can do about it.

It's funny how this blog can sometimes be my voice - let's me express in the typed word what I cannot express verbally on my own.

My "Grandma P." passed away this morning. I haven't stopped crying since yesterday afternoon in Battle Mountain, Nevada. My heart is broken today, but my spirit is buoyed. I loved my Grandma more than I can express in words and am devastated right now that she's gone. But, I am so thankful for my faith, and the strength I feel in knowing that she is enjoying the greatest reunion in heaven right now and one that she has been looking forward to for so many years.



My Grandma was one tough cookie and I am so lucky that I got to have her as my grandma for 30 years and that she got to know her crazy monkey great-grandson Elliott. Up until a few months ago, my grandma came to every Sunday dinner at my mom's and it makes me happy to know that she got to hold Elliott while he screamed as an infant - watch him take some of his first steps, start talking, and turn into the crazy almost two year old he is right now. Knowing that she will get to watch over him from heaven....that's good.

As a kid, my grandma tried to teach me to crochet - to no avail. She would try to teach us to cook, sew, and participate in all the arts she loved. I never quite got the hang of it and heard "Oh Honestly! Annabelle" more times than I could ever recount. That's where this blog's name comes from, you know. From my grandma.

Before I got married, my grandma helped me with my party favors. I spent the whole night with her just talking about Ross, and work, and life and listening to her stories about my Grandpa and work, and life. The conversations blur now, but the memory is there. When she came to watch us open presents after we were married she told me a story that I'll never forget. My grandpa, when they were still newlywed's expected my grandma to have a fancy dinner prepared every night, even though she was working too. Once night she'd had enough and when she got home from work, she threw a roast in the oven and told my grandpa that they'd eat in four hours. They did - and he never bugged her about dinner and often fixed it himself from then on out.

Losing someone that you love so much is so hard. Especially for me - the giant, crying, weepy baby. Every family's got one and between me and my dad - all the tears are covered...i think we even steal them from other people.

My Grandpa died when my dad was 12 - he (my dad) turns 54 this week. My grandma spent all that time as a widow, raising her children and taking the best care of her family. I can only imagine how sad she had been at times in her life when she needed my grandpa for a hug, or a comforting word, or a good laugh, or a shoulder to cry on. But she moved on, pressed forward, and lived an amazing wonderful life.

I am so happy that I was a part of it - that I've got some of my grandma in me - and that right now, she's getting that hug from my grandpa. And if she's smart, which I know she is, she won't let go for a really long time.

I love you grandma.