Thinking about Grandma lately. This will be our first Christmas without her. Mom recently sold her house, and it’s sad to think that we won’t be having Christmas Eve dinner there with her and her live-in helper, Perla. Mom would make noodles for long life and good luck and dad would grill steaks. It was a small dinner but full of warmth and laughter. I miss her. I miss how she brought us all together, with cousins visiting from all over to see her. She was the matriarch that we all respected, and sometimes feared, but she would go sweet and tender in a split second, just when you least expect it.
I inherited a lot of her things. Two winter coats from the 60s that just happen to go with a lot of my own clothes, her flower patterned wing chair and sofa, a glass punch bowl and ladle. They remind me so much of her, these presents. I am eternally grateful.
Merry Christmas, Grandma.