Barb

Yesterday my grandmother passed away. Eight days before her 90th birthday. Although her and I had a very hot and cold relationship, the lost of the only grandmother I knew puts a period at the end of a legacy. Her name was Barbara, we called her Barb. I'll never forget our last conversation. Her brutal honesty was often a tough pill to swallow, but her perspective earned through years of living was her trademark.

She once looked at my daughter and warned her to be careful with having so much beauty, that an envious person may try to cut her face. 😬 true, but tough.

The loss of my grandmother compounds the grief of the family I've lost before her. It starts the grieving process over again. It makes me yearn for the "good ole days."

Today I think I will drink a Coca-Cola for Barb. I hope she found peace and rests in peace forever.

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Stepping out on faith