Cousin Interview: Version 2.0

Four years ago I interviewed Ian, Emma, and Grace about marriage.  (Click here to see: Marriage Survey: June 2008 )

Here is version 2.0.

What are your plans for the future? Where do you want to live?

Ian: The beach.

Grace: Uhhhh...anywhere by ranches and beaches.

Emma: I want to live...like La Cresta or somewhere.

When do you think you will get married?

Ian: Uh...like, 21 or 22.

Grace: In the future. Um...25-ish.

Emma: Uh...I don't know. No...I don't know.

What are the things you need to look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend or a future spouse?

Ian: Ummm...what's the word....um...sense of humor. Uh....nice. They have a good sense of humor.

Grace: Ummmmmm...ummmm....ummmmmm...hold on, I'm thinking. Ooooh...somebody who likes my duct tape creations.

Emma: I don't know. Niceness.

How many children do you plan to have?

Ian: Two. One girl and one boy.

Grace: I'm planning to adopt three children.

Emma: Two adopted.

What is your future career?

Ian: A firefighter

Grace: Ummm...something with animals and something with duct tape.

Emma: An animal cop.

As you enter middle school/high school, what are you excited about? What are you nervous about?

Ian: Excited about water polo. Nervous about classes like math.

Grace: Excited about a day with no homework. Nervous about homework. Ian said they have really good chocolate chip cookies.

Emma: Excited about the teachers. Nervous about if anybody will like me.

Describe your perfect day.

Ian: ummmm...You wake up, you eat food, you go swim, and you hang out with anyone. (Danielle: "With your mom?" Ian: "Maybe.)

Grace: Ummmmm....I have a couple perfect days. Going to Disneyland and going around in an electric wheelchair or something. Riding dolphins in the ocean. Finding a time machine and going to different times. Oh yeah. uh huh....

Emma: A day at the beach or at the ranch.

What would you like to tell your future self about your self today?

Ian: Can I give them something...like..."Stay Golden" or "Never read Bradbury or whatever his name is again?"

Grace: Uhhhummmm....stay strong and keep working on duct tape stuff.

Emma: Uh...to..uh...ummmmmmmmmmmmmm....to always be kind to people.

Ohhhh....boy. :)

Booklights and Blanket Forts

 We had a good old fashioned power outage on our street last night. It lasted from 6:30 until sometime in the middle of the night.  

 Digging out all of the candles, we lit up our house like a cathedral and listened to the quiet creaks and hums of the neighborhood.

The girls decided to make blanket forts in the living room. We opened the windows for some fresh air and allowed the flickers of the tiny flames to dance on our walls. Jeff Smith declared that his flashlight/headlamp made him the coolest of all. We retrieved our book lights and read. Softly, slowly, our house settled into the quiet night. Afraid of lighting the neighborhood on fire, we blew out the candles and went to sleep.

Morning came. The fans blurred with activity. The digital alarms flashed red numbers. The microwave clock beeped. The coffee grinder growled. The quiet softness of the house was left behind as the machines took over once again.

Or did they?

The girls were not ready to give in to the pull of technology.

Emma remained in her cozy nest reading.

 Grace stayed burrowed in her blanket fort making clever creations with her collection of duct tape.

 The world got back to its busy whirling while my cozy nook remained untouched.

 Even Olivia knew that the house was changed as she watched us all with a pensive glance.

And then Mama got on the computer and blogged about all of it, ironically relying on the very technology she so enjoyed being without for a short span of time.

The end.

Love x 3!

Oh how I love these ladies! (Danielle, my sister, on the left, and Toni, my mom, on the right.)

Every time I am with Danielle, I laugh so hard my cheeks hurt. She is so funny. She makes voices for animals, and is able to make fun of herself (and me) in a way that points out our flaws while showing love at the same time. That is just the beginning, though. Danielle is the most caring person I know. She loves animals and children, and her passion spills into her every day life. Some people talk about saving the dolphins or helping orphans; my sister SAVES the dolphins and HELPS the orphans. :) Her non-profit, Salvation International, raises money for couples who wish to adopt. She works tirelessly to promote Salvation so she can give money away. Although she would like to adopt herself, she knows that helping others adopt is a way she can contribute. Children LOVE Danielle. Whether they are her former dance students, her nieces, or her kids' friends, young people like to be around Danielle. Actually....everyone likes to be around Danielle. She accepts people for who they are and never judges them. God's love shines through her. I've learned a lot through my sister. (Who knew that the little sister would teach the big sister?) She enjoys each moment of her life, whether the smallest walk or the largest get together. She has true joie de vivre!

My mom taught me the most important thing in life: love never fails. (One of the most important sentences in the Bible, in my opinion!) Her grandmother, (Grandma Otti's mom) taught this to my mom. She loves me and my sister unconditionally. If you are in the hospital, my mom will drop everything and accompany you. Just recently, when Jeff had surgery on his knee during finals at my high school, it was my mom who drove him there, got the information from the doctor, and waited in the waiting room during the surgery, texting me updates. She is truly "there" if you need her. When I had the girls, my mom stayed with me for three weeks, helping me with their first baths, feeding schedules, and housecleaning. She even let me sleep when my lack of sleep caused me have a new mommy meltdown. My mom treats people who aren't in our family as if they are a part of the family. I know that we have many "adopted" siblings who crave the love that my mom has shown them. :) I'm glad to share.

How did I become so blessed? I hope I tell these ladies how much I love them on a frequent basis. I hope God knows that I know that He has blessed me. I hope I am as wonderful a sister and daughter to them as they are sister and mother to me.

xoxo

Smile!

Me: Girls! Smile!

Them: See above.

What 40 Has Done to Me

I don't know how it happened, but I'm 40.

It's just another year. I'm only two months away from 39.

But I'm different.

I'm different in every way.

I used to be melancholy. I would spend time longing for things in the past and wishing I could touch those moments again. (Baby videos...childhood photos....yowzas!) Now, I realize with ferocity that these ARE those moments. Every single moment is to be tasted, savored, enjoyed, and loved. My once Kindergarten-aged daughters are 11-year-olds, and I need to squeeze every beloved ounce of enjoyment and quality out of 11. I will do that again with 12, 13, 14....59...80. I will do it until my time on this earth is over.

I've learned to forgive completely. I don't hold grudges or hate EVER. I'm not saying I was walking around a few months ago with anger and hatred, but what my late '30's taught me was that in the Bible, where it says to "love one another" and to forgive others, it's not just a suggestion. It's a commandent...Jesus's most important one. I get it now. Thoroughly. I let things go.

This is cliche, but I worry a lot less over what everyone else thinks about me. I feel confident having an opinion. I trust my gut, and spend a lot less time second guessing myself. I don't feel like I have to justify my decisions or explain myself. This is a big one for me. Growing up with a pretty strict dad caused me to respect authority, but also to feel like I was "in trouble" a lot. I questioned everything. Did I make the right decision? Did I do something wrong? Was I bugging someone else? Now, not so much. I still have a healthy respect for authority, but those feelings of insecurity are gone.

I've learned not to worry. I was a worrier, and I never understood why that was a problem. (As if any of that worrying ever helped anything!) A profound truth I've embraced is that worrying is selfish. It tells God that you think you are in control, when in actuality, HE is in control. I release it to him. This has had a major effect on me. It's so freeing to trust God and to know he's got you covered. I'm not a tattoo person, but if I were to get one, it would be Luke 12:24-28:

          "Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds
            them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a
            single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the
            rest? Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon
            in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field,
            which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you,
            O you of little faith!"



More than ever, I've become a Bible reader. For too long, I carried it to church and wrote in the margins during the sermon. Now, I use it as a toolbox of help, support, knowledge, and beauty. It's my most important book.

Phew! Isn't 40 wonderful? It has been an awakening for me. Years of reflection and knowledge have stacked up to this moment, and WOW. I get it!

At 50, I may think what a naive youngin' I was at 40, but somehow I doubt it.

XOXO
Dawn

Texting, Texting, 123

My daughters are texters. They are texting queens. They are textaliscious.

Here are some of the texts I've received in the past couple of weeks:

From Emma (after a fight with Grace): "Now I'm hurt in the inside AND on the outside!"

From Emma (after Grace wrote a poem about her for school): "I don't approve of Grace's poem."

From Emma: "Please come home. I'm board."
My reply: "I'm on my way in a jiffy. Bored is what you are. If you were board you'd be made of wood. Or used for surfing. Or skating."
Emma: "I like how you said 'jiffy!!' Ha ha ha."
Me: "I like you."

Emma (while I was at work): "Please answer your phone it is really important!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :( Please please please please please please please!!!!!"
Me (calling her because I think the house is on fire or someone is dying): "What?"
Emma: What is the plural of toast? Is it 'toast' or 'toastes?'"
Me: "Um...you called me at work to ask me the plural of toast?"
Emma: "Dad and I have a bet."


Grace (referring to her book): "Somehow I read a chapter in my sleep."

Grace (referring to her headband): "Did I leave my headband?"
Me: "Yes. I have it."
Grace: "I have a nether one I'm wearing so never minde."

Grace (updating me on the birds at the ranch) "Guess which one is bing friendly?"
Me: "Sugar?"
Grace: "U got it."

Texting is not the most magnificent or deep form of communication, and yet it tells so much about the texters. Emma: detailed, dramatic, and determined. Grace: short and sweet, offbeat, spelling unique.

I wonder what my mom would have received from me if we had texted when I was a fifth grader. It probably would have been extremely emotional,  overly sensitive, whimsical rhyme. :) I can see it now...

Me: "Mom, I wish you wouldn't force me to ride the bus. It is an instrument of terror."

or

"Mom, fractions are bad for my health. I wish to take a sick day!"

Even worse---

"Dad, if I have to eat another Sizzler meal in this lifetime, I will perish, I just know it!"

:) hee heeeeeeeeeee heeeee

Hey, Boo

Tonight, Grace came downstairs to tell me that Emma was crying over her book. "She is crying tears from her head to her feet, Mom," she informed me.


Poor, sweet Emma. 


She is me.


She walks around with her feelers out, with her heart on a platter, vulnerable. She is deeply affected by characters in books, by animals, by stories, by other people.


She will be moved by poetry. She will cry in church. She will relate to certain songs on the radio with the essence of her being. She will hurt so terribly and love so deeply and want so badly for others to feel the way she does. 


She won't understand it when people don't get her. She will feel like everyone should look at a sunset-dripping sky and feel chills in their toes. She won't understand why other people don't see God in the eyelashes of a pony, or in the petal of a violet. 


She will have romantic notions about boys that are unrealistic and silly, but she'll count on the love story to work out. And it will.


When I posted about Emma on Facebook, one of my former students wrote to me and reminded me that I cried when reading the class To Kill A Mockingbird. It was the part of the book where Jem is in bed recovering from the attack, and Scout realizes that Boo Radley was the one who rescued them. She looks up at Boo's dark figure in the corner of the room and says, "Hey, Boo." Reading that for the first time after becoming a mother touched me so profoundly. I felt the vulnerability of Boo, and appreciated his humble sweetness and his longing to be left alone but to be understood. I loved the bold acceptance of Scout, who was so willing to drop her preconceptions of Boo and accept him for who he was. I looked up, expecting the whole class to be emotionally affected like I was, only to see a room of confused, freshmen faces wondering why their English teacher was so crazy.


It might not be the normal way to be...crying over words on a page, turning splotchy faced and having "tears from your head to your toes." But it's a good way to be. My Emma won't let life speed past. She'll take it in, savor it, taste it, mourn it, rejoice it, and FEEL it. I love that about her. 

Is This What We've Become?

This is my neighbor's house. He's got a star, Sponge Bob, a snowman, Rudolph, a snow globe, and candy canes. For Halloween, he had a giant, gory vampire bat creature dripping blood and hanging upside down from his garage.

I don't want to sound prudish, or like I'm preaching, but...GOSH, is this what we've become? We have taken God out of everything, it seems, even the holiday that is supposed to be about Him. Worse, we've made everything so based on materialism and "stuff" that Sponge Bob, the obnoxious sponge, sells Christmas, and mangers offend. 

I shudder when we drive by this house. To me, it exemplifies what Christmas has become for so many--in all its glittery horror.

I felt this way when the world was gearing up for black Friday. Everyone seemed to be forgetting to pause and to say thank you to God for their blessings and their families. In this warp speed we call life, we work our tails off to buy more stuff to spend less time with the people the "stuff" is supposed to be for.

Henry David Thoreau talked about simplifying. "I went to the woods to live deliberately, to suck the marrow out of life." 

I don't feel like we live deliberately any more. We live in a shiny, flashy blur. We live on autopilot. We don't make the most important things meaningful. I see it in my students sometimes. There is a loneliness in their eyes. They long for recognition and attention. They need to matter. Their parents have not only stopped monitoring their homework, they have stopped teaching them basic life lessons- manners and morals, kindness, giving....love.

This isn't the time of year I want to focus on this. I won't spend another precious minute worrying about it, but I just had to VENT. 

 ¹⁹ “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. ²⁰ But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. ²¹ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

~Matthew 6: 19-21

A Tail of Two Piggies...err Kitties

Can you match the tail to its owner?

Some are curly

Some are stout

Some are fluffy

Some stick out

All unique

All adored

Can you tell that someone's 

Reallllllly bored?

Why I Am Not Like Most People...

1) I don't follow sports. I don't know teams, players, who is playing, what "place" they are in, or even what season it is. I don't care about them at all. The only games I watch (sorta) are high school football games, and only because I feel ownership of the team since some of those guys are my students. :)

2) I don't care a lick about cars. I think people pay outrageous car payments. I haven't had a car payment in over 3 years! 

3) I text and Facebook using proper grammar. I shudder when I read "dat" instead of "that", "ur" instead of "your", "neva" instead of "never", "ta" instead of "to", and "sista" instead of "sister." YUCK.

4) I am not competitive in the least EXCEPT when it involves classroom competitions.

5) I don't understand why ANYONE would want to put nuts in ANYTHING...especially walnuts. YUCK again!

6) I like the smell of my dog's breath even though it repulses most people.

7) I don't really like talking to people one on one. I am better at writing or speaking with/to a classroom of students...even to a room of parents. I would rather speak or perform in front of a large group than actually CONVERSE with someone.  I seriously get panicky because I think I'll run out of stuff to say.  This doesn't apply to talking on the phone with close friends or to my husband or kids or close family. It applies to talking to someone I know, but not super well. I hate the pressure. I also worry I'll talk too much if I get going, or not enough if I don't come up with a topic quickly enough.

8) I am not good at lying or "faking it" when I don't really care for a person. I like to be genuine. I know that white lies are often necessary, or that people need to be politicians at times. I just don't like it. I avoid eye contact when I get uncomfortable in these sorts of situations. I need to learn to play the game and act friendly even when I'm not feelin' it.

9) If I don't read before bed, I cannot fall asleep. Even if it's just a page, I must read. I also get really worried if I'm out and about without a book on my person (either in my purse or in my car.) I have a reading app on my Iphone, but it's not the same.

10) I always have fun when I go out and do something, but I never like having a plan to go. I like the idea of staying home with my kids, my pugs, my cats, my books, and my tea. I traveled to the East Coast a couple of years ago and had the time of my life. I loved every minute of it, but before I left, I didn't want to go. I got so nervous and thought about how much everyone would miss me, how the plane could crash, how it was too long to be away from everything...I dreaded it. Then, I just went, and I loved it. I'm sure some psychologist type would tell me that I had panic disorder or anxiety. I probably do. I'm glad it doesn't stop me from doing the things I end up enjoying! :)

Like Taffy

Ever have those moments where you look at your kids and feel overwhelmed and in awe of them? I felt that way tonight watching Emma do her homework...her furrowed brow, her freckles, her serious expression. I had a moment where I saw her perfect little baby head, bald as can be, and her ginormous baby cheeks. How did she turn into this 5th grader writing in her reading log, chewing on her pencil?

This blog is often about life's little moments, about family, about pugs, teaching, and random thoughts--but it always circles back around to the two girls God blessed me with.

On the way home to get ready for water polo practice tonight, Grace piped up from the back seat, "Now, when we get home, don't dilly dally! We have to get our bathing suits, grab towels, and get back in the car. I don't want to be late!"

As she speaks, I'm thinking, "Dilly dally....where did she get that term? Do I say that? Does she remember it from Grandma Otti? Is she an 85-year-old woman trapped in the body of a 5th grader?"

My brain begins to spin in circles.

I reflect....

My childhood felt like an eternity. We lived in Mammoth. Danielle was born. We moved to Bishop. We went to school. It was so cold in the Winter that my legs would be purple beneath my knee high socks. We swam at Mill Pond in the summer, trying to stand up and "walk" on the logs that floated in the pond. We played all around the neighborhood, catching pollywogs and saving baby birds. We rode horses, practiced piano, and ate one of the several home-cooked meals my mom would make: tacos, spaghetti, meatloaf, fried chicken, or pork chops. Or, we ate at the Sizzler, and since my parents owned it, we ate there a lot. We roller skated in the driveway. We sang in chorus, played on the monkey bars, and went to the Presbyterian church. The driveway was long, and so were the days of summer, when my sister and I would curl up together in the lazy boy and watch reruns of The Love Boat and The Price is Right. We did homework, got stuck on math lessons, and read book after book after book. We went to school dances, and were too shy to dance with the boys. We went to youth group. We skied Mammoth. We played lots and lots of Barbies. Strawberry Shortcake, My Little Pony, and Care Bears made appearances, but Barbies dominated. We camped, went fishing, and roasted marshmallows. We told ghost stories. We ate chocolate chip cookie dough, and discovered bagels and cream cheese. We grew, our knees scabbed from crashing bicycles and our legs bruised from climbing trees.

My point?

This. Took. Forever.

Now?

My daughters are ten. TEN! They will be in middle school next year. They will grow into 6th, 7th, and 8th graders in the blink of an eye. They (may) get attitudes. They (will) hit puberty (and without Judy Blume's help!) They will have crushes on boys. They will be hurt by gossip, and betrayed by friends. They will make new friends. They will learn to let things go. They will fall in love and get their hearts broken and fall in love again. They will apply to college and suffer through standardized tests.

In my head, this is all happening like those fast-forward sequences in a movie.

So...

I need to pause a minute every once in a while and tell you about my daughter's freckles, or about the time my other daughter said "dilly dally" on the way to water polo practice. I need to tell you that it was only three seconds ago that the two of them were babies, one with a bald head, one with a pacifier, both with fiery attitudes and big belly laughs.

I need you to know that this isn't about your entertainment, but about me, stretching each moment between my fingers like taffy, pulling it longer and longer to see every bit of it before it goes away.

Thank you for understanding.

A Lovely Lady

Grandma's 90th Birthday- (Not 2025!) :)

When Grandma, Gracie and I had tea at the Huntington Gardens. 

The girls' third birthday. Grandma always loved being right in the middle of the fun.

Christmas 2008. Praying before dinner.

Grams and Megan.

One of my favorites. She was in her absolute glory in the picture!

Sassy little great-grandkids!

Grandma and almost all of her great grandkids. Such a precious picture.

Last year- trying on junk jewelry. I even decorated her head! :)

Having her own personal piano recital from Emma

Another VERY fond memrory- Grandma got really dressed up to come down the street to dinner. 

Relaxing with Megan after our dinner

She adored ALL dogs- Sophie knew it!

Olivia knew it too!

One of her final visits with Auntie Anne. This was a good day.

With Danielle at my Master's Degree celebration

Gracie and Grandma on her last birthday

Both girls with Grams on her last birthday

Mom and Grandma with some of the gifts. Notice the Baileys!

I love her!

Kissing my hand after she gave me the ring

This cracks me up. She put her Bailey's in her walker.

Her final Christmas

Over Christmas break. Having some chamomile tea with me.

The infamous dalmatian robe and her wine

The gals and Grandma on their last visit. I'm so grateful they had this!

What a precious memory. 

My Grandma Otti was a lovely lady in every way. She lived in Chicago as a young girl, and she used to drive her dad's cars around the city to run errands for him as early as twelve years old. Later, she moved to California after her family lost everything. They started out in the Pomona area, and later moved to San Diego. She raised my Uncle Tom and mom in a house in La Mesa on a street called Butterfly Lane. We visited the house last year, driving through the neighborhood where her children played. In the past year, Grandma had a better memory for things in the past than for things that happened a week ago. She told vivid stories about her parents, my grandpa's job at the hardware store, and her friends in the swim club. I asked Grandma recently what her favorite time of life was, and she said that it was being a mother to her kids when they were young. She was a true caregiver.

Grandma Otti's husband and my grandfather Tom died when I was in fifth grade, and it was from that point on that I felt a pull on my heart every time we would leave after a visit with Grandma Otti. I remember pulling out of her driveway while she waved and wondering if she was lonely, or if I would see her again. (I thought she was VERY old. Grandma had grey hair in her early 30's, so she looked like a grandma for a very long time. Little did I know she would live to meet my daughters and to know them as ten-year-olds!)

Grandma was definitely a lady of The Depression. She was very frugal with her money, always saying, "We'll make that." She didn't throw ANYTHING away...from toothpaste tubes to old curtains, the "treasures" in Grandma's house were a plenty! I remember her snatching my Raggedy Ann doll to "fix it" when I was about nine years old. I found the doll years later (in my 20s!) in a box in her garage when we were moving her out of her house. I teased her that she kidnapped dolls.

Grandma was known for loading kids up into the car and going on adventures. She could make a trip to KMart exciting! I used to look forward to riding the horse merry-go-round in the front of the grocery store. Grandma would also put up with frequent visits to the Barbie aisle, and although she didn't buy me Barbies, she always had a box of ancient dolls/plastic animals/blocks/books/toys/etc. to play with.

Grandma was a beach grandma. She taught me to make drip castles, to duck under body boards, to swim. She never forgot the sunscreen, and would make us wait at least 30 minutes to go in the water.

I loved visiting my grandma at her house in Poway. She had a white swing on her patio and a very big Bougainvillea bush next to the patio gate. She would teach us to water the trees and plants, to pull weeds, and to clip roses in her beautiful yard, but we never wanted to listen too long; we were anxious to go into the pool. Grandma usually let us go after having us complete a chore or teaching us a life lesson. She loved to teach us important aspects of life.

Grandma taught me to drive. I was overly-confident, and put the pedal to the metal. When this happened, she slapped me on the leg repeatedly until I slowed down. She was more upset at my speedy driving than when I accidentally crashed her Acura. (She had allowed me to drive to the mall in the rain, and I only had my learner's permit.) Although a worrier about some things, Grandma was never one to hold back on something that would teach you a lesson. Crashing the car after failing to understand a four-way stop was a definite lesson.

I loved sharing books with my Grandma. Before she lost her eyesight, she was an avid reader. She and I would read the same books and talk about them. We liked the same kind of movies as well. She took me to see Dead Poet's Society in the theater and we both cried like babies when it was over.

Grandma drove longer than she should have. She used to pull up to the front of my house in Ocean Beach and hit the neighbor's car, back into our trash cans, and then deny she did either of those things. She had a knack for exaggeration. I remember her telling her friends that my family had a "summer home" in the mountains (which was really a fifth wheel trailer), and I would be horribly embarrassed because I hated to be considered "rich."

Grandma loved to cook. She made pot roast, mashed potatoes, and coconut cake. She loved making poached eggs on toast for any hungry grandchildren in the morning. Her kitchen was filled with the most beautiful, tiny dishes and plates. She would NEVER serve you something out of its original container. Instead, she would put it into a fancy dish with a tiny spoon. Ketchup? Fancy dish. Sugar? Fancy dish.

My grandma loved Dalmatians, the color purple, Oprah, Dr. Phil, wine, and candy. She was often scared that the great grandkids would swipe her candy, so she would hide it in her dresser drawers or her bookshelf, but then forget where she'd put it. There were many stale candies found years after they'd been safely hidden.

My grandma had many quirky sayings, like "Bingle Bangle Boom" and "It's the Dickens." If she wanted a piece of something, she would say, "Give me a 'hunk' of that." She liked to try pieces of things but pretend she wasn't going to eat the whole thing, so she would "test" See's Candy or a dozen donuts by picking bits off each one and leaving the rest.

On my Grandma's final birthday, she gave me a beautiful gift. She had recently hurt her hand falling, and her ring finger was sore. She could no longer wear her wedding ring, and she knew that I loved the ring more than anything. She gave me her ring, and I didn't even need to have it fitted. It is a perfect fit! I now look at it as a reminder of how much I loved my grandma, and how important family is in our lives.

I adored my grandma and will never, ever forget what a wonderful grandma she was. I hope to be just that sort of grandma. I will most likely be stubborn. I will probably exaggerate. I will definitely make up weird sayings. I will very likely pick at sweets like donuts and chocolate, and hide them from my grandkids. Most importantly, I will love my family deeply. I will teach them all that I know. I will give them my time, attention, and wisdom. I will do this in honor of my grandma, who showered me with love.