All grandparents love their grandchildren, but being the only grandchild, I was especially lucky. I got to get all the love from my Grandma and Poppie. I always knew that my Grandma thought I was the most talented, smart, amazing person on the planet -- next to my Mom, of course. When Grandma saw me, her face always lit up. When she heard my voice on the phone, I could always sense how excited she was to hear from me.

When I was born, my Grandma was 46, the age I (somehow?,)  am now. So, when I was a little girl, she was still very young. That meant, to me at least, that she was lots of fun. She was happy to babysit me when my parents went out at night, and while Poppie went dancing, she and I would spend the evening playing Yahtzee, binge-watching the entire TV lineup from “Love Boat” to “Star Search,” and eating peppermint stick ice cream with Hershey’s syrup.

We also went bowling, to the movies, to eat dinner at Sackstedder’s or Bob Evans (usually with Poppie as well) and all kinds of fun stuff. I remember once while driving in the car with her, she tried to teach me to sing scales. She had a lovely operatic-like voice and loved to sing, at church or later in the chorus at Edgewater Landing. In the car, she patiently tried to teach me do-re-me… but I was pretty terrible. And I’m sure she noticed, but she soon forgot and went back to thinking I was perfect.

When I was in elementary school, she took me to get my first manicure, to try to get me to stop biting my fingernails. 

In junior high, she took me to New Smyrna Beach for an entire month to stay at the Golden Arms condos. I’d run off to the pool and the beach with the other kids during the day, but at least once a week we’d go get the early bird special special at Blackbird’s and enjoy filet mignon with Bearnaise sauce.

She even took me to Vegas for spring break one year when I was in high school, and treated me to my first massage. 

And of course, she came to visit me in New York several times, first when I was living solo in the East Village, and later when Xavier and I were together in Jackson Heights, and then many times after Chloe was born. She was so excited at being a great-grandma to Chloe and that she, my Mom, Chloe and I were four generations of women.

All this is to say, my Grandma was fun; She was adventurous and loved to travel and take cruises, loved to enjoy life, loved a good Margarita, loved her family. She was genuinely excited and appreciative of even the littlest things -- a good sale at Beall’s, two for one at the grocery store. She usually could find the positive in most things, even though she dealt with chronic pain and was enough of a klutz to injure herself fairly regularly. Mostly I think she broke her toes running into things so many times because she was so busy looking around at what she thought was the amazing world around her. 

My Grandma was perpetually optimistic. That next bingo game, penny slot machine, or scratch-off lottery ticket was sure to be a big winner! And she was generous to a fault, often offering to pay for things even when she didn’t have the money. She was more than happy to turn a blind eye to reality when it didn’t fit the rosy view of the world she wanted to see.

She had a wry sense of humor and could really deliver a line of sarcasm when called for. She also loved to gossip, and would spell each person’s name out and even give their address, I guess in case you wanted to stop by and check it out for yourself.

My Grandma also had a flair for the dramatic. If she had ever owned a fainting couch, I’m sure she would have made use of it daily. But she was also dramatic about happy things. As I remember the story, our family was on a road trip and my Grandma kept saying, “Ooooohh! What a beauuuuuutiful day!” Again, and again, and again. Because each time she realized how beautiful the day was, and still was, of course she had to say it again and again. Finally, my dad, so over her gushing about how beautiful the day was from inside the car, said, “If you say that… one. More. Time….”

She loved being the center of attention, and should really have been on the stage. She had the looks for it, too. She was always cute and stylish, but recently while looking through some high school photos of her, I discovered she was quite a smokeshow back in the day. One of the last times we visited together, I asked her if she had lots of boyfriends. 

“No,” she said. “Just enough. Not to be pests.”

Chloe and I were lucky enough to have a beautiful visit with my Grandma in early July, and as we said goodbye through lots of tears, my Grandma found the strength to comfort us, even though it was we who were trying to comfort her. Despite being very weak, she suddenly became very present and wise and spoke more strongly and with conviction than before. 

“May God bless you on your travels,” she said. “I will always be with you, and you will always be with me.”

We were blessed in our travels, and in our lives to have her. She is still with us, as we are with her through our memories and stories.

Let us all carry her spirit with us in life.

Stay adventurous no matter how many times you break your toes.

Appreciate the little things every day, even if it’s just two-for-one at Lofino’s.

Let your face brighten with job when you see someone you love

Be positive no matter how many times your lottery ticket isn’t the big winner.

And if it’s a beautiful day, say it. One. More. Time.