Grandma Flossie

My mom's mom, my Grandma Flossie, died last Friday. She was just shy of her 91st birthday. She had recently had a number of health scares and was in and out of the hospital and rehabilitation centers quite a bit. But, just as she lived her life on her own terms, she left this life on her own terms as well, quietly passing away in her sleep.

Flossie was definitely what you would call, 'a tough old broad.' She told it like it was and didn't put up with much from anyone. I would like to think she's where I get my feistiness (or maybe just my big mouth). She was a hard worker and dedicated to her family. She could be a bit prickly at times and didn't always have the easiest time showing her emotions, but I truly believe that at the end of the day she cared very deeply about the people in her life.

I was thinking the other day about how quirky she was. She was a terrible cook and when we used to eat lunch at her house she would make us sandwiches with peanut butter, regular butter, and lettuce, with a side of canned green beans. But she would also take us on awesome adventures-to museums, the plant nursery (which we LOVED and was the site of Amy's orange shoplifting drama), to parks, and on walks. She didn't have a ton of toys for us to play with at her house, but she always let us rearrange the furniture to play hide and seek or Murder in the Dark (basically, hide and seek with the lights off). She took great pride in the tomato plants she grew in her backyard, but always let us pick the tomatoes-even when they weren't quite ripe. We were obsessed with her refrigerator because it was one of those models with ice and water dispensers in the door (this was big time stuff in the early 80's). Not only would she let us get as much water and ice as we wanted, but she always set out little dixie cups for us to use that had jokes on them. It was subtle, but looking back on it I think it was her way of showing us how much she cared.

As we got older she was always in attendance at dance or music or whatever recitals and sporting events. She went to graduations and weddings when she could (traveling in the past 10 years or so got really hard for her), and without fail remembered every one of our birthdays, every year.

She had a very special relationship with my Grandpa Hod, who died in 2000. It broke her heart when he died unexpectedly and I don't think she ever was the same without him. They had their quirks too-they used to secretly record each other-like with an old school cassette recorder-and then use the recordings as 'evidence' of the other person's broken promises or wrong doing in later arguments. We always thought it was hilarious, but they took it very seriously. At the same time though, when we would play hide and seek in their bedroom we would find love notes they had written to each other, tucked in the side of a mirror or taped to the bathroom medicine cabinet. And these weren't old notes either, they wrote them to each other all of the time-I imagine up until the time he died. I took from them that true love doesn't have to be perfect. True companionship is messy and sometimes requires surreptitious recording, but it is definitely worth it in the end if you get to live your life with your best friend.

She loved to play the slot machines (she would win ALL the time), she loved the San Antonio Spurs, and she loved to talk politics. I may not have always agreed with her opinions, but I appreciated her passion and her honesty about how she felt. She was a tough old broad and we were all better people for knowing her.

[It hasn't been a good summer for grandmothers. It is strange that I lived 34 years with both grandmothers only to lose them within about a month of each other. I feel very lucky for having them in my life as long as I did-my only hope is that Norah is able to say the same about her grandmothers.]