I know this is allegedly a craft blog (that I do not write in often enough) but I wanted to use this entry to talk about my grandma. She passed away a few days ago at the age of 90.
Right now, I go to work and sit at a computer the entire day barely moving. I come home at the end of the day, collapse from exhaustion and can barely move to cook myself dinner. My grandmother owned a flower shop with my grandfather that she worked in everyday from 8am until 6pm, weekends and holidays --spending the entire day on her feet. When she came home at night she homecooked a full meal for her family and kids. She worked until she was well into her 80s. My aunt and uncle called her "Millie Machine."
My grandmother was also an avid crafter. She sewed all her own clothes when she was younger (a skill I wish so much I could possess). She was excellent wtih a needle. Even as she got older, she still did latchhook, needlepoint and two weeks before her death she relearned how to crochet and crocheted a small square during my mom's knitting club.
At work my boss often calls me "Tell it like it is" Heather because I don't like to bullshit. If someone asks me for an opinion I say what I'm thinking. At the wake yesterday, a man who used to work in the store with my grandmother came up to my mom and said, "Millie was always the best person to go to for advice. She would always just tell it like it is." That was the first time I really saw myself in my grandmother. I might not have her work ethic (wish I did) or her crafter skills (really wish I did) but I did inherit her ability to not bullshit.
I think of you often
and make no outward show,
But what it means to lose you,
no one will ever know
You wished no one farewell,
not even said good-bye,
You were gone before I knew it,
and only God knows why.
You are not forgotten
nor will you ever be,
As long as life and memories last,
I will remember thee.
To some you may be forgotten,
to others a part of the past,
But to me who loved you dearly,
your memories will always last.
Nothing can be more beautiful
than the memories I have of you.
To me, you were someone special,
God must have thought so too!
If tears could build a staircase
and memories a lane,
I would walk all the way to Heaven,
and bring you back again.--anonymous
R.I.P. Grandma <3