She was the best of our family. She had a heart as big (if not bigger) than the whole family put together. God blessed her with kindness, love, compassion, and an iron fist when she needed it. She loved and cared for all those who walked through her door and called her on the phone. God blessed us with her for 87 years. It mattered not if you lived down the street from her, in another city or even another state. She loved everyone the same.
She was a proud grandmother and great-grandmother. She loved all her grands and great grands equally, and was always ready to tell you which was the first. She spoiled, but only when it was deserved. She always seemed to know when you needed an extra kiss and hug, and always had desserts in her refrigerator. She had a nickname for everyone, but they always had meaning behind them. She was fierce, but loving. The best grandmother you could possibly be blessed to have. I know, everybody thinks their their grandmother is the best. You’ll just have to excuse the bias. I couldn’t have asked for a better grand.
God gave her a strong personality to stand for her beliefs, a fierce heart to fight for her family, reinforced shoulders for carrying the weight of her family (and they were really good for crying on as well), and arms that were strong enough to defend all she loved and yet soft enough to hold you up when you were feeling weak.
If I had to her some her up, God molded her in His image, and sent her down to Earth with out wings or halo. She was a living breathing guardian angel. I know she’s earned her wings up there. God knows she worked hard enough to get them.