That woman over there with the pale, wrinkly, ivory skin, that's my grandma. Born in England, and a hand full. Light blue eyes, that squint when she laughs. A smile that lights up the room and a gentle touch. Pretty makeup, and expensive clothes. A English accent, that make you laugh at first, then end up cross legged and bright eyed in the floor listening to one of her stories. She is a whiz at crossword puzzles, easily amused. I guess that's where I get it from. A short little English lady, who says bloody and me self instead of myself. Goes to church every Sunday, and sings off cue in the church pews. A farmers wife, a mother, a grandma, and a loving great grandma. She is woman who has taught me many things, who has spoiled me, and made me laugh so hard I thought I was going to pee my pants. Your a woman of many kinds. And most of all your my grandma or as I call you, your my maw-maw, and I love you.
January 31, 2012