My grandmother passed away this morning.
I’ve been wanting to say a few things, just to give you an idea of how wonderful she was.
She was my constant confidant and best friend.
Last year we did the Wobble together. No really—she asked me what it was and then insisted on me teaching her.
She was the best looking golfer on the course.
Furthermore, she won the award for best dressed grandma..she had a glorious and unmatched sense of fashion:
when skinny jeans, long shirts, and boots came in style she rocked it. She’s the reason I discovered the color orange….and most importantly, cheetah print.
Whatever she cooked was delicious. No one can make matzoh ball soup like my grandmama.
When I was younger, she would fix china, porcelain, and any other doll up for me. She restored dolls and sold them at a flea market, which was a big deal to me, as a little girl.
She was the only other person in my family who kept up with the bachelor and the bachelorette—which is an awfully entertaining topic at the Thanksgiving dinner table!
She knew what planking and owling was before I did.
She had a lovely taste in music, and insisted I sing “Summertime” at every concert she came to.
She always encouraged me to keep singing…and try out for American Idol…which we bonded over until the judges were swapped out.
She introduced me to Singing in the Rain…which we would constantly sing (in the rain, of course).
She kept a lock of my hair I gave her when I was little, because she loved my curls so much. I thought it would somehow help her grow curly hair.
I inherited her sweet tooth.
Sometimes she gave me the most ridiculous gifts in the world. For graduation, she gave me a dancing and singing stuffed chicken.
Speaking of gifts, any necklace or bracelet you’ve seen me wearing was probably a gift from my grandmama.
Did I mention she pulled off skinny jeans?
She believed in my dreams, simply because I dreamt them.