Grama’s service was today. It was a gorgeous day, and it was a pretty service. It was rough though. Very, very rough. I still don’t want to say goodbye, but I don’t have a choice. Goodbye, Grama.
Grama’s service was today. It was a gorgeous day, and it was a pretty service. It was rough though. Very, very rough. I still don’t want to say goodbye, but I don’t have a choice. Goodbye, Grama.
We buried my grandfather on a gorgeous, clear-blue-sky day. It seemed so incongruous at the time….Hugs.
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Grama would have loved the weather, so it seemed right. The rain would have seemed weird to me, somehow. Probably also because it would have been too cold to wear the dress she’d bought for me and would have loved to see me in. (A brightly colored floral sundress, actually.)
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My grandma didn’t wear black to her hub’s funeral. She wore a dress he loved.
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