Grandma

My grandmother, Mary Hudson, passed away at 83 years old this past Friday morning. I will be missing her viewing this evening and her funeral tomorrow morning because I'm 36 weeks pregnant and unable to fly. While I'm sad for this loss in our family, I'm happy for her. She suffered from Alzheimer's and has not been the same woman that we knew and loved for several years now.

I'm not exactly sure how tall Grandma was because she was actually shrinking in the last few years, but at 5'2" I pretty much towered over her! She shopped in the kid's section for clothes and sometimes could wear my hand-me-downs or my sister's. She probably only weighed about 80 pounds because she walked EVERYWHERE. Even on the muggiest, hottest days, Grandma could be seen walking around Boca and occasionally friends of mine would mention that they'd picked her up and given her a ride to work, home, or church.

My Grandma was a feisty, spunky Italian woman. Anyone who knew her well, knew that she loved to argue. She HATED to have her picture taken and most of our family get-togethers involved at least one heated argument about why my Dad shouldn't be taking her picture. (He would still sneak in candid shots whenever given the chance, which we're all grateful for now.)

My grandmother loved her grandchildren well. She had a special relationship with my brother, Will, and I still remember her playing what she called "sock ball" with him when she came to babysit us. For years she worked at 7-11, and every Tuesday on the way home from school we would pop in and immediately head to the freezer section, looking through the sodas to see if we could find Grandma back there. She'd come out and hug us and give us free Slurpies.

My older brother, Dan, loved to play practical jokes on Grandma- which was easy to do since she was extremely gullible, and it was so funny to get a reaction from her. So, there was the hot sauce incidence when he pretended to be putting seasoning on her spaghetti (which backfired big-time for Dan since my parents made him eat it), the fake slamming of the fingers in the trunk; and the never-ending hide-n-seek game where she thought she'd lost him since he was in an alcove above the shower.

One of my favorite recent memories of Grandma is from Christmas just a few years ago. My husband and I had given her a huge box of Belgium chocolates (about as long as she was as tall). In the hour or so that it took us to open presents as a family, Grandma had polished off the entire box. Every time we looked over she was sneaking another bite. She's been known to do the same with the remnants of a pie from Denny's as well. Needless to say, it's obvious that I come by my sweet tooth quite honestly.

While these short stories don't do my grandmother's life justice, they help me in a small way to process my love for her, and help me remember the great love she had for her family.

Love you and miss you, Grandma.

-Abby

(Thanksgiving 2010)