This morning our beloved Mawmaw passed away.
The last couple of years had been difficult as her memory and body began to fail her- this wonderful, stubborn, leader of our family. And in many ways I am happy to think of her free from those burdens. But the selfish me wishes we could go back and spend just a little more time at her table, laughing and talking, telling ghost stories or playing Yahtzee, hearing her say once more "and if they don't like they can just kiss my ass!". I want to see her picking green beans from the garden or making the roast, the lasagna, the fried apple pies, the broccoli and cheese, that her grand-children loved so much. I want to sit with her on the back swing and talk about the lack of rain or the latest neighborhood drama. I want to wake up and walk quickly down her hallway and find her in the kitchen making bacon, eggs and toast on homemade sough dough bread. I want to play rummy or solitaire at her table and just soak her in. Just a little bit more.
I am blessed to have married into a family that has taken me in so completely. While by blood Mawmaw may be Nick's grandmother, she was also 100% mine. After fifteen years I can hardly grasp the idea of her not being my family. Every time she would see me she would hug me and say "You know, you are one of my grandkids too! Don't you ever forget it!"