Good-bye Grandma “B”

My Grandma passed away this week.

She turned 90 years old this year and she and Grandpa just celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary this month. That’s quite an accomplishment in this world.

The last time I saw my Grandma was a couple weeks ago. She was sitting next to Grandpa and they were holding hands. Grandpa was patting her hand and saying, “You’re my girl,” over and over.

They were so in love, so devoted to each other. Grandma would often look up at Grandpa and say, “I have the perfect husband.”

Grandpa would beam.

They sang “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” at my wedding.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more positive than my Grandma B. Everything you did was “wonderful.” You always looked “beautiful.” Every child was “precious.”

When you’d tell her about something, she’d rock back and forth on her heels, clap her hands together and say, “Well, good night! Isn’t that neat!”

When we were little, my sisters and I loved to dress up in her aprons. They were all ruffly and frilly, and red.

Grandma loved red.

She’d let us put on her lipstick (red, of course), perfume, and heals and we’d clomp around the house pretending we were pretty homemakers like Grandma.

In Grandma’s closet was a line of red dresses. Grandma used to say, “I love every color of dress, as long as it’s red.”

I get that from her.

There are more red dresses in my closet than anything else.

I wore my favorite red dress to her funeral today.

My Mom came up to me and said, “You look like just like my mother!”

That is a great compliment.

Grandma was lovely in every way.

My dad said the first time he met Grandma he honestly thought she was my mom’s sister. Dad said when Mom brought him home to meet her family, they came into the house and Grandma was laughing and talking with her young adult kids, and she was so youthful, active, and full of joy he thought she was one of them.

She was Grandpa’s whole world.

Grandpa hardly ever said a word, but it didn’t matter. Grandma talked enough for the both of them (I get that from her too). Grandpa didn’t mind. He loved listening to her talk and laugh. After she’d finish telling an experience or story she’d grab Grandpa’s hand and say, “Isn’t that right, Dad?”

Grandpa would just smile and say, “Yup.”

In the past few years Grandma’s memory has been going. She’d say the same things over and over, but Grandpa just listened and smiled.

One time, she was telling us about a team of horses they used to have. Grandma said, “They were beautiful and almost identical. One was named ‘Queen’ and the other one was named . . . I can’t remember. What was his name, Dad?”


Two minutes later Grandma would tell the same story again and say, “One was named ‘Queen’ and the other one was named . . . I can’t remember. What was his name, Dad?”


Grandpa must have told her the horse’s name “King” ten times in row. But he never got impatient or frustrated. He just kept answering her question over and over.

He loved her.

We loved her.

She will be greatly missed.

Grandpa will be very lonely without her.

We all will.

I love you, Grandma. Thank you for your love, your legacy, and your example.

We’ll take good care of Grandpa for you.

Until we meet again.

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