Just so's ya know ...  My Grandmother was 93, had a long
and full life.  Right up to the last her mind was sharp--we were able
to get up to see her just two days before, so I know it for a fact.  The
backbone in her I obviously inherited or I wouldn't be a Green Stripe
now.  Grandma never wanted anyone to fuss over her.  She was the
type who'd be offered a choice in a restaurant and say, "Whatever's
fine."  I never expected her to live forever, but somewhere deep
inside, I guess I never expected her to die and my heart has been
broken by the reality of it.  But that backbone she gave me will carry
me on and eventually I'll be able to talk about her and what a GREAT
grandmother she was.  Until then, this'll have to do.  Below is
something I wrote to be read at the services for her.  Don't doubt that
someone else--the minister--had to read it for me.
 	Thanks for understanding.


One Last Present

	Yes, I can hear it already.  "No.  You shouldn't have," and
"There's nothing that I need!"  I know, Gram, but just indulge me this
once.
	I know your last days were filled with presents--gifts for your
birthday, visits from friends and loved ones, and Christmas gifts, too.
And towards the end, I know that the medicine the doctors gave you to
ease your pain was a gift to you as well.  But for all you've ever given
me, there is one last gift I'd like to give you before I let you go.
	Remember when I was little and we used to come visit you?
You always had some cookies or treats for us and sometimes I stayed
overnight with you. 
	Remember when I was older and I got my sewing machine and you
taught me how to use it?  The very first lesson you gave me was on how
to get the needle out of my finger if I accidentally sewed over it.  And
remember all the gifts you gave me using your various crafts and skills?
The Barbie doll clothes you sewed, the ceramic figurine of the girl with
her dress billowing in the wind?
	Remember when you hemmed two wedding dresses for me and
helped me set up an apartment in between?  Remember how you helped
take care of the house when George and John were born, then helped take
care of George and John when Thomas and James were born?  People said
I had my hands full, but those boys were never too much for you, were they.
Then it was them you gave the cookies and little treats too and life seemed
to have come full circle.
	Gram, I could go on and on about all the times I spent with you,
but the point is, I remember them and I will go on remembering them.  That
is my final gift to you.
	So long, Gramma.  I'm sure God has short blueberry bushes set
aside especially for you.  And don't take any wooden nickels.  Be seeing
you.  Someday.

	Love,

	Kathy