Friday, August 15, 2014


She drove a white Mustang.

She picked all four of us up, every summer, to spend a week with her in Myrtle Beach.

I always knew when we were pulling into her neighborhood - I'd giggle at the fact that the trash cans were IN the ground, thinking it was so silly.

Her house had these interesting looking bricks, between which the cement seeped out.  I always thought it was so cool.

We'd bound into her house, running all over the perfect vacuum lines in the carpet to get to the toy closet in the guest bedroom.  Within minutes, her house was taken over by us, and she loved it.

We spent the hot summer days on the beach with her, or at Myrtle Waves, or at Maze Mania.  Oooooh Maze Mania.  A life-sized maze where you ran between high wooden fences to find the cheese.  It would take us hours to get in and out.  And, she'd happily watch and cheer us on from the observation deck.

Late afternoons were usually spent playing putt-putt.  She had the patience of a saint.

We'd gobble up her delicious homemade dinners, usually followed by an oatmeal cream pie found in her fridge... and then the games began.  Uno, Yahtzee, Skipbo - we'd play and play and play for hours, laughing and giggling and making memories around a white wicker kitchen table with a glass top.

Granny, you loved us fiercely, and with your whole heart.  And we always knew it, always felt it.  Always looked forward to the week we got to spend with you, each summer.  You came to every graduation, shower, wedding you could - pulling up in that white Mustang, wrapping us up in your hugs - the best hugs.

The last time we were together, I shared with you our pregnancy losses, our infertility struggles.  We talked for hours.  And then I asked you if you had any piece of advice for me moving forward with my life.  And you said, "Honey, you just gotta do the best you can, in all that you do.  That's all you can do.  Do the best you can, and it'll all be okay."


I know you so wanted to be around for the birth of our next baby... but now you are in a better place, watching over me and this little miracle - and that brings me so much peace.

I already miss your sweet voice, your giggle, the cards you mailed us for every occasion.  I miss mailing you Cameron Kate's sweet drawings to brighten up your room, pictures of her so you could see how much she's growing.

Granny...I miss YOU.

Your heart, your spirit, your selflessness, your genuine heart will always live on, as long as we're around to tell stories about our Granny.

Rest in peace... I love you so, so much.

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