Six years ago today my grandmother passed away. My family called her Grand Z and she was, without a doubt, the center of our world. Widowed at a young age, she raised three boys and then spoiled five grandchildren rotten. She was strong, intelligent and feisty. She was a loyal and charitable friend and fiercely protective of her family. She loved Elvis, the Yankees, instant coffee and the occasional candy bar. She married the love of her life and stayed true to him until the day she died.
Grand Z told me I could do anything. She loved me and laughed with me, she kissed me and held my hand, even after I'd grown half a foot taller than her. She sang and she danced with me and scolded me with a smile. I knew, we all knew, we could do no wrong in her eyes.
There is so much more I could say, but it would never be enough. I understand completely why my grandfather fell in love with her, I couldn't help it myself.
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