Yesterday on my car ride down to New York I took a little “artist time” to reflect on my grandmother. She died at age 92 so we couldn’t really ask for much more. She had a very long wonderful life.
Above I started with a photo of grandma and I then worked my way out with little memories of my time with her.
My Grandmother was born in 1921 in British Guiana South America. They were very well off living on a plantation when her mother met a Scottish Doctor and they married and moved to NYC. They lived in a mansion over looking the Hudson River. Of course we know the Great Depression hit and I’m pretty sure their fortune was decimated.
She lost the love of her life, her oldest brother a pilot, in World War II. Many say she never recovered. After the war she married my grandfather and the most peaceful, creative and nourishing part of her life began. They were married well over 50 years.
My grandmother was drop dead gorgeous. The number one word attributed to her, was class. She was the classiest.
Yesterday the priest came into the wake. His first remark was “This sounds more like a wedding reception than a funeral.” He was right. That is how my family rolls! We laugh, hug, catch up, kids are welcome to run around, customers from our family art & framing business came. Even a woman who was a student of my grandmother in kindergarten over 40 years ago felt the need to share how important my grandmother was. It was a wonderful evening. I have an hour to get out of the house for the funeral. This event will start at 10am and will go until we are ready for bed. There will be lot’s more laughter, lots more friends and lots more family. You never fear a funeral in our family. They are always a wonderful celebration of life.
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