I found out the day after Christmas that my Grandma L. passed away Christmas Eve.  My parents are up visiting on their way to and from the funeral, and it is nice to get an unexpected Christmas-time visit from them.  I know the kids are enjoying their company.  It is a strange thing when someone you were related to, yet not at all close to, dies.  There seems to be a feeling of obligation to mourn their passing, a little guilt over not attending the funeral.  Unfortunately I was never very close to this particular Grandma.

However, I do have some fairly nice memories of Grandma L., and the least I can do is honor her memory by sharing those with others.

Big blonde wigs.

Soft, wrinkled skin.

Eyes that showed excitement at the mere sight of a child.

Strong Philly accent.

"God bless ya," "Isn't she precious," "God love ya."

The strangely woodsy smell of a city backyard.

Blueberries in milk, triscuits, London broil, and sloppy pizza.

Tight hugs and excited pinches on the cheeks.

Rigorous, welcoming kisses.

Shopping -- oh how she loved to shop.

And the family favorite. . .

Grandma L. came to visit while I was potty training.  I was very intrigued with the bathroom habits of others at the time; so when she went in the bathroom and shut the door, I laid down on the ground outside the door to listen.  When I heard that Grandma L. was successfully potty trained, I cheered from the hall, "Good girl, Grandma!"

. . .she loved to tell that story.