My grandma passed away on Monday, less than a year after my grandfather died. The day after his birthday. This is my favorite picture of her; she was an absolutely beautiful woman both inside and out. The hallmark of what a Grandma should be; unfailing in her kindness, dignity, grace and love for her family.
My mother's mother. They were both shining examples of love and fierce loyalty to family.
She met my Grandpa at a social dance when he was stationed down south during the Korean War and moved North with him as a young bride to a new family and place totally foreign to her.
She, along with my mother, taught me to love the kitchen. That cooking and care could be an expression of both creativity and love for family.
In her kitchen she taught me to bake and can.
Before the farmhouse was auctioned I cleared out her recipe drawer next to the stove. Sifting through it I wondered how much the creativity of the kitchen may have been a comfort to the isolation of living on a farm in a small town.
For the viewing tonight I made a collage of my favorite photo and one of her handwritten recipies, then ran off photocopies for everyone in attendance.
Peanut Blossoms. Because she was the kind of Grandma to let the kids pick all of the Hershey Kisses off and leave the cookies behind in the tray.
Rest in peace and know you were loved.