Gone but Not Forgotten

A couple of weeks ago, I lost my beloved Grandma.

She is wearing her favorite wig in that picture. And believe it or not, the opaque picture inside the program is her on her wedding day. She was 18-years-old (She looks like she is 14 or thereabouts).

It's still so hard to believe. I usually put the funeral program of a service I've attended up on my fridge or up in my cubicle at work, but I get teary-eyed whenever I see it. So alas, I must put it away.

She was my only real tie to family of old, where my memories of being a kid in the 70s live strong. That time seems so distance, especially since my grandparents and my great-grandmother are gone. I wish I could go back to those days, if only for a moment. I feel so distant from family right now. Hopefully I will get over it and move on.

The funeral was very nice. Drama threatened on the horizon, but there was none, and that's a good thing. That's all I can hope for.

And I am SO glad that I have my blog, and that it is so old, because I have been able to go back and look at old stories and old pictures of her. I may repost some of those because I would like to have them grouped together in one place on my blog.

So know Grandma... you are gone, but not forgotten.

Never forgotten.