I have been thinking about my grandma Janene a lot lately. I think you would have really liked her. I know she would have tried to dislike you based solely off of your tattoos, but she would have adored you. I imagine you two shootin the shit over coffee. She would have told you things she never told me, and I would have slugged you in the arm for being in the know before me. Inside I would be floating, doing the back stroke in the pool of my own Olympic sized heart.
You both have a lot in common, stubbornness being one. Both unafraid to put someone else in their place. She sure knew her way around the kitchen, just like you. I am sure both of you would deny such culinary talents, but like I said, you’re both stubborn as hell.
Although I was really close to her, I have not thought this much about her since she died. Maybe it is because for the first time, I have someone that I want to share every little bit of my life with. Even if those bits no longer exist, except only in my blood. I can’t stop thinking about you either, I guess the two of you have that in common too.