A nice thunderstorm is going on tonight. I'm here listening to some Blues Traveler and Phil Collins, trying to relax.
I still can't help but realize, it would have been my grandma's 76th birthday today. She was a great woman. She never gave up, and always had a smile on her face. I have to say though, she was always a character. Without skipping a beat, or removing the Marlboro or Misty Light from her lips, she would always be like, "Jason, your coffee cup's down there, all you have to do is fix it"... or the memories of cooking with her.
In her life, she was a woman of many faces. From being the local paper mill worker's union leader, to her stories of coming up a poor child as her grandpappy made corn whiskey out in the woods of 'Carolina. She led a long and adventurous life.
She had a stroke on Halloween night of '82. It left her paralyzed on her left side. Her doctor said she'd never walk again, and forget driving. She went to one physical therapy session and as she would say, "that $hit was for the birds, so I left." 2 years later, she drove herself to the doctor's office, walked right in like the sweet old lady she was, and promptly slapped him. She said that's what he had coming for saying she'd never walk or drive, or do most anything, again.
She always had a seat in the kitchen that she would work from. She could always throw stuff into the trash can with her right hand, and almost everyday to a point, she could always make a family meal, a meal blessed with her determination and love. As she progressed with the later stages of colon and lung cancer, she couldn't do as well for herself, but she'd never tell you that.
Even while in the nursing home, she was a character. The preacher that did her funeral, was also a person that was an admin at this nursing home. He would always come into the dry cleaners where my mom worked and he would talk about how proud she was of her grandchildren, and how full of pep and vinegar she was. She was loved by many, but forgotten by none.