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Maybe it is the holidays or maybe it is that my son is having a Grandperson’s Day celebration at his school tomorrow.  I am not sure but, it seems that my grandmother has been heavy on my mind of late.

The other day, I was driving in to work after having dropped The Boy off at school.  The Steve Harvey Morning Show was on the radio and their Star Project segment was about to start with some woman singing Diane Reeves’ song Better Days.  I knew the song from when I was a teen, I believe, but, I couldn’t recall the melody.  The only thing I could remember was that I loved the song.

I couldn’t wait for the woman to sing it after the commercial break and I wanted to know how it was supposed to sound before I heard someone possibly destroy it.  (Lot’s of the Star Project candidates could keep their singing confined to the shower.)  So, when I got to a stop light, I pulled up YouTube on my iPhone and searched for the song.

It is such a beautiful song about the love and respect of a grandchild for her grandmother and her grandmother’s wisdom.  It is a song that shows appreciation for the lessons taught to us by our elders and as I listened, I missed my grandmother.  As the song reached the second stanza, I was trying to see through a stream of tears in order to merge onto the highway.  I wiped and thought and cherished the moments that I had with my grandmother, who lived a very full and long life.  I wiped and thought, “you’d better get it together before you get to work.”

When she died, she was ready to go.  She had held on long enough for the birth of what is sure to be her last grandchild, she had held on despite the pain of three hip surgeries, and the setting in of arthritis, she had held on to life for long enough to enjoy it and be at peace with letting it go.  She had given us all the lessons of her lifetime.  She had taught us, taken care of us, and allowed us to take care of her.  Okay, she really only slightly allowed that but, we made it work as best we could.  She left when it was duly time for her to leave and I had been completely okay with it until Diane Reeves reminded me of the beauty of knowing her.

I miss my grandmother and I wish that mine could have had the pleasure of knowing even a small bit of the woman who taught me to hold my pencil correctly, do independent research, mind my manners, appreciate the opera, correct my mistakes, enjoy a Snicker’s bar, strive for perfection no matter how painful and time consuming, be fair, treat my elders with kindness, listen or fear getting my head knocked off (she was not a violent person, I was just a know-it-all), turn my back when necessary, act like a lady…

The Man and The Girl-in-the-Middle had the pleasure of meeting and spending time with “grandmommy” as they both still call her.  The Boy will know her through me….that is a promise.