Grandma used to enjoy staying sat in her cozy rocking chair placed strategically in front of a large window. This way she could hear the cold wind blowing, her favorite melody. She was proud of her garden crowded of daisies and lilies. She smiled when butterflies and bees came to talk to the flowers and taste some of their unique self-made licors. Tall and curly trees were grandma's first confidents. They witnessed her as a young lady furtively holding hands with her first love. Grandma was a beautiful woman her whole life. Even so old, she did not lose her charming gaze. She had a strong personality and was the most sensitive and loving person I have ever met. She was a gifted storyteller, nourishing hundreds of minds with delight and surprise with stories built from her own fertile imagination. Her sense of humor was singular and sweetly sharp.
Grandma was a wise person. She never underestimate anybody, any opinion, any expression of love or hate. In her astute believes, color, gender, race, faith were not synomymous of segregation but an amazingly wealth of possibilities, valuable lessons, and beauty ... a beauty named diversity.
Grandma was my first school, model, and hero. Her rocking chair still keeps her lavender. Sometimes, I feel as she did not leave. Perhaps I should ask the old trees some clue about her destiny. After all, they were her best friends ... and best friends never lie.
* I have never met my grandmas from any side, but I have wanted to have one all my life close to me. So, I made believe this one. This is the way I wanted my grandma was. She lives in my imagination.