My last living grandparent passed away last week. My grandmother was a great lady and a force of nature, and she will be missed dearly. She was the last connection I had to my mother, the last person who had known us both since birth. With both my grandfather and my mother already gone before her, she was the last glue holding the remains of our family together. After she had to leave her home for medical reasons, arguments and hard feelings started to divide family gatherings. Now that she is gone, I won't be surprised to see all of us drift even further apart.
My grandmother was the keeper of our family history and for me especially the keeper of our family recipes. I could always call her (and often did) to ask about that cake Aunt Ruth made or that orange sherbet punch Aunt Jean made for baby showers and wedding receptions or the Spanish Rice Aunt Sarah brought to family reunions. Grandmother and Mama knew all the recipes and could tell me what I had forgotten or gotten wrong just by having me describe it to them.
She was quick to laugh, and I remember her singing when she cooked when I was little. I rarely heard her voice raised in anger. I was always welcome in her home, and whatever friends I brought along were treated like family too. We will not be the same without her.
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