I've had several little sobs about my Grandma this week. I'm reading 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn' right now and my bookmark is copy of a pencil sketch my Grandma did of the Savior. My aunts made the bookmarks and gave them out at the funeral. I've seen it a hundred times but this particular night as I closed my book, my eye caught her name on the bookmark.
"Leona C. Udall"
And I cried.
It's been almost 6 months since we lost her. I'm starting to forget her voice. I cant readily recall the funny things she'd say or the little dance she'd do when she was happy and being clever.
I do remember her hands.
They look like mine.
What is it about hands that is so significant? My friend lost her mom a few weeks ago and this week she's been thinking about her mom's hands. The way they looked, the way they felt, the service they gave...
Anyway, I'm so grateful for how well I knew my Grandma. I'm grateful for every moment I spent in her home and in her presence. I'm glade we were such good friends. I'm glad she's out of pain. But I miss her. A lot.