This One's For You, Grandma

My Grandma passed away about a month ago. I think it's now just starting to just sink in. It's the hardest when I have some good news to share. Immediately the focus shifts from celebrating the event to acknowledging that she's not here to share it with. I haven't dealt with her passing at all. I pushed it out of my mind, like she's on vacation. I still haven't erased her phone number from my phone. I guess I'm just not ready yet.

There she is with my sister Sarah at her wedding. This is one of my favorite pictures of her because not only does she look blissed out, but my sister looks stunning. It's a sweet shot of them that makes me smile every time I see it.

Here is the speech I gave at her funeral. I hope it does justice to her. She really was a sassy lady and I miss her dearly.

My grandma recently unearthed some old pictures from a shoebox in her closet. We'd play a game where I'd try to identify her in the crowd. I'd confidently point to her in the picture and say, "This is you, isn't it?" And, she'd nod, pleased. There she was, in her first grade class picture with dark hair and tight curls. And, that smile.

There she was, at a cocktail party in a frilly '50s dress. And there it was, that smile. Her smile could illuminate a room. And, there was something about that smile that defined her. I could always pick her out of crowd, as she'd have this almost devilish smile on her face, like she was up to no good. She probably wasn't.

My Grandma was the kind of woman to wear a sweater with fringe and/or sequins. Animal prints were embraced. If she was going on a cruise, she might don something with a parrot or an anchor if she wanted to feel nautical. I really loved that about her. Her clothes, like her, were flashy and had a sense of humor.

When I was little, it seemed like she knew everyone everywhere we went. At restaurants, I'd watch as she made her rounds, strolling from table to table, greeting her friends. She was the queen, holding court at Murray's deli. She dazzled. I'd be in the booth waiting for her to just sit down already so we could order our meal. Sometimes she'd point to me. Yup, I'm her grandkid I'd confirm with a nod. That was my claim to fame. I was on her team and I was in awe.

On the way to Friendly's, if I was lucky, I'd get to sit in the front seat between her and my Grandpa. She'd sing to me that I was her sunshine, her only sunshine. While I munched on my french toast, She'd pull her turtleneck up to her chin with one hand and tap her fingernails on her mug of tea with the other.

Losing my grandpa last year was a huge blow. It deflated her. I remember after the burial service, she sat in the backseat with me on the way back to her apartment. It was just us, quiet and drained. What could you say to her? There's nothing you could say. I put her delicate hand in mine. It was as light as tissue paper. I told her that everything was going to be okay. After a few minutes, I even cracked a few jokes and she laughed at them.
I remember thinking how honored I was that after everything she'd been through, I was able to distract her for just a second from the terrible events of the day. I'm sure it was a blip to her on an otherwise overwhelming morning, but to me it will always be a special memory that I could provide some relief from her crushing sadness and that she would seek comfort in my company. That meant a lot to me.

She got such a kick out of watching the birds flutter outside her apartment or hearing about her great grandkids' accomplishments. Did I hear what Lucas said to her? No, tell me. She'd relay the story and beam with pride.

She's the only woman who calls me by my middle name. When I'd ring her up, I'd say, "Is this my Grandma?" And, she'd say, "Is this my Anna Aviva?" That was our thing.

Good news didn't become good news until I told it to her. She's the first person I called when I got accepted to college. Hearing her congratulations made the celebration that much sweeter.

She will be missed very much. No one will ever love me the way that she loved me. But, I will cherish our memories and I'll always be thankful for the time we had together.