My girl

The best way that I can think of to describe Mawmaw, would be to say, that even the things that you didn't like about her. the things that she did, or the ways that she was, were things about her that you loved.

Stubborn. Spirited. Tenacious. Creative. Joyful. Courageous. Loyal. Did I say stubborn?

You could probably have punched Mawmaw in the face before you could say something bad about a member of her family.

Especially one of her boys.

And, the way she loved.

You never had to wonder. Never had to guess. There was never any room for doubt, any hesitation.

She loved you.

but I remember being younger.

I remember being angry with my dad.

Or some cousin was angry with an uncle.

If you were looking for comfort, little one, don't go to Mawmaw. She didn't want to hear it. She'd purse her lips and put her thumb and forefinger to her chin and cheekbone. Her eyebrows would raise.

A dissatisfied and bemused, don't come crying to me, little girl.

And sure enough,

As it always seems to go in our family,

Whatever the issue had been would be forgotten, or laughed about, and minutes later, you'd find yourself planted firmly in mawmaw's lap.

Ring clad fingers wrapping around your stomach, hand on your arm, a cheek against your shoulder blade.

She'd squeeze and remark, ooh how we love this girl. Girl, we sure do love you. Don't you know how much we love you. You're our girl.

And I could go on.

The refrains pour out of me. They echo in my head.

The pride. And the loyalty.

The love.

who am I?

I'm mawmaw's granddaughter.

Made with overflowing love, shattering laughter, and the occasional joke at your personal expense.

I'm still crying. And I'm still saying goodnight in my prayers. I know she's with pawpaw, I know she's taking care of our Oskar, and I know, that when I tripped this morning and stubbed my toe, cursing...

She would have chuckled and patted me on the bottom.

Oh come on, girl.

It's just a beautiful day.