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My Gram was everything I wanted to be as a person She was my hero. And she would still come to rock out at my shows. On behalf of her 14 grandchildren of whom I am the eldest I wrote a eulogy to celebrate her amazing life.

My goal was to focus on the things that we all remembered about her while we grew up in her home. Several members of my family asked for a copy of this, and I thought it would be a fitting tribute to post it here for everyone to see: Somehow, it seems that we still should try because Gram always found the time for us. We picked up many more honorary brothers, sisters, and cousins as a result of Gram always having an open heart, and an open home. It seems silly to complain about cooking for a family of four after witnessing Gram cook a Sunday dinner for upwards of 40 people in her little kitchen on Burton Drive.

That house became a second home for us and sometimes, even a first. We all grew up terrified to travel down her steps into the haunted basement, and felt like we were a little bit more of a grown up the first time we made the journey. There was always a pot of wedding soup, some sauce that had been on just a bit too long, and she had a sausage sandwich on standby just in case you were hungry. On Christmas morning there were so many presents in there that you literally could not walk across the floor.

Of course part of the joy came from a dozen children tearing into new toys But a lot of it came from Gram, because she loved to watch how happy it made us all. Just make sure to stay out of the blinds. There was perhaps nowhere that her happiness was more evident than at the Cottage. If we were with Gram and Aunt Gen anywhere else besides the Swiss Chalet people might have thought it was weird that a bunch of kids were hanging with two old ladies who were drinking fuzzy navels and white Russians.

She loved to people watch from her favorite bench right outside of Times Square. We thought it was weird that Gram always slept on the couch at the Cottage until we remembered that none of us had ever actually witnessed her sleeping in a bed.

There we followed in the footsteps of our mothers, fathers, aunts, and uncles and carved our names into the clay and fished off the old pier. Looking back we understand what Grandma was really saying: It was the one and only thing that she could ever be called selfish about.

It is her family that gave her purpose and defined her existence. We were all convinced that we were her favorite, because she made everyone feel like they were. Grandma will never be too far from us ever again. She will remain a part of each of us, living in our hearts, until the day we get to see her again in Heaven.

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#1 27.09.2018 в 11:18 Asfamdiyar:
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