My brother spoke beautiful words. Tales of mowing the lawn, eating raspberries and drinking grapefruit soda.
He told the many gathered to say goodbye to our grandmother of how special she was. How spectacular. How lucky my siblings and cousin and I were to have her. And to have her as long and as close as we did.
He explained how she was not only an amazingly strong and independent mother and grandmother, but a grandmother to all those that were special in her grandchildren's lives.
He began sobbing telling of how a few weeks ago, when he danced her out of the RV, she promised him a dance on his wedding day, not so long from now. I was sad for him. But knew he'd get that dance with our grandma anyway. If only in spirit.
His tears behind the podium gave me courage. I wasn't sure if I could do it. But as he finished and walked over to hug my mom, I walked up to take his place.
I wanted to tell everyone how special she was to me. How wonderful and amazing of a woman, person, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother she was. How she made me feel special. How she made everyone who knew her feel special.
About our crazy road trips. And about her smile on the last one, when she knew she was back home. Back in Colorado.
I think I got some of that out, but I'm not sure how coherent it was between the tears. At least she knew what I hoped to say. Knew and knows I love her very much. And although I know she will always be with me, I will miss her very much.
To my grandmother. The most amazing woman I have ever known. I love you and miss you.