Ten years ago today, my great-grandma Julia died. I'm not doing a big memoir-y blog post, I just wanted to write down a few things that I loved about her, and what kind of a woman she was.
I was only 12 when she died, and we lived three hours away from each other, so I didn't see her all that frequently. But every Christmas Eve I spent for 12 years was at her house, with her dog Muffin (and later Sandy) and her mechanical recliner that my mom said she used due to her wonky hip, but probably did because she enjoyed watching her grandchildren and great-grandchildren play on it. Grandma Julia loved Christmas. Nothing made her happier than having her whole family around her, singing carols, greeting Santa. She had sweaters and these wonderful tacky costume jewelry pins that she adored. This last Christmas Eve my aunt Nancy gave us all one of her pins, and it's one of the most precious things I own.
Grandma T couldn't cook for anything but made some mean buttered toast. She was a devout Catholic who sprinkled holy water on her six children as they slept but more than anything she was a happy woman who loved Jesus and her family.
She was known to everyone as Grandma Trouble because of her bad habit of sneaking candy on the sly to all her various grandchildren. She got her driver's license in her 60s and never knew how to swim. (Thankfully she was a large lady and would simply float along.) In her last months she was in the hospital she was such a favorite with her nurses that many of them attended her funeral when she died. Before she died she was diagnosed with cancer and given some months to live, but her death was peaceful just a few weeks later, surrounded by her children. Her funeral was sad but joyful, and her memory is cherished by everyone who was lucky enough to know her.
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