I DO MUCH BETTER WHEN BLIND-SIDED BY DEATH
When I was little, I had a fantasy. Not that I would get a horse for Christmas or marry a handsome prince, but that my grandmother was actually my mother but was so old when she had me that she gave me to my mother to raise. So that paints only the vaguest idea of what my mother's mother means to me. She did cartwheels on my front lawn and could launch a whiffle ball two yards down with a whiffle bat. My childhood adoration gave way to genuine and real respect as a teenager and now an adult. The... Sign in to see full entry.