If I have my math correct, my Grandma P. celebrated her 70th birthday the year I got married. That means that if she were alive today, she'd be 80! It's funny that both my grandma's have birthday's within 5 days of each other in September. I think they must have planned it up in heaven so that once they left us on earth, we'd make sure to always remember them.
My Grandma P. was a remarkably classy and awesome lady. Every year at Easter, she would make us chocolate peanut butter eggs. I lived for those eggs. She was so talented in so many ways and now that I'm older, I wish that I would have concentrated more when she tried to teach me to sew, to crochet, to cook. If only I would have known....
But, now that I've taken up sewing as a bit of a hobby, I think about my grandma every day. Each time I finish a project, I know that she would be proud of me. I may not have paid attention when I was a kid, but I'm trying to make up for it now.
When Elliott was born, he was the first great-grandchild for my grandma and she was smitten. She died a few months before Wyatt was born. In fact, I hadn't told anyone but my parent about being pregnant with Wyatt prior to my grandma's passing. Ross and Elliott and I were on our way home from Lake Tahoe the night my dad called to tell me that she was slipping away and probably wouldn't make it through the night. I was so sad that I wasn't close enough to say goodbye, but I asked my dad to whisper in her ear that another baby was going to be joining us.
At least she got to meet the crazy chick in heaven.
And now, from that one great grandchild, there are so many more. 10 in fact. And I know that she is in heaven and couldn't be prouder of all of us kids and our kids.