My grandma, Sophie, passed away in early June. She was wonderful. As I got older, and smart enough to ask her about her life, I got to delight in these little moments of memory with her - jobs and travels and thoughts and experiences. In the last year, I tried to visit a bit more often. On the surface, she was quick to tell me that she liked it better when I wore skirts and my hair down. But when we sat on her porch under the Providence trees, I tried to remind myself to keep asking her questions about her life. Each question opened a new door and I was always glad I asked.
She reinforced the belief that homes should be built around books. She spoke up when it wasn't asked for or easy. We pealed apples with this silly little contraption that tumbled springy thin peals onto the counter. I make delicious grilled cheese for the boys in the betty crocker pocket sandwich maker she gave me when I was in college. I'm thankful for the adult years I had with her to appreciate what an incredible path she paved for me.
I love her indefinitely and totally miss her.

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