We buried Grandma last week. If death can be beautiful, Grandma's death was beautiful. We were privileged to spend an extra four days with her before she went to be with the Lord. Those four days were the greatest! We knew she was ready to go when she took off her oxygen and closed her eyes.
She was a beautiful woman who lived through more than her share of ups and downs. She was widowed at a young age with four teenagers. I'll never know all the details, but I do know that she was a mighty strong woman. Dad says she was industrious. He told me that he remembers Grandma staying up all night sewing two coats from her only coat so her twin boys would be warm the next morning as they walked to school. She couldn't offer her children much as far as things went, but she gave them all the love she could. She went without so that her children might have a little something.
I wish I'd have had the chance to know my grandmother better. That's another story.
Blessings to you all,
the PTSD Widow
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