Grandma

There's not much to say. I knew her, know some things, but certainly not all. I know how little she put up with fools, how her cooking surpassed so many others', how simultaneously sweet and hard she could be. I know about her smoking, about her jewelry, her faith, all these I'll hold close to me. Every single spark, every star, shines with such a glow, such a marvelous radiance, that we can't gaze too closely at it, lest we cause ourselves pain. And yet, despite ourselves, again and again, we do; because it's not within us to resist the sheer beauty of it all, of stories and of life. A bouquet of tulips for you. We all miss you already, Grandma. I miss you. I know Heaven's got you, taking no guff as always, making sure we're all doing alright. I love you. Andrew James (McGillicutty) Sprouse