Naw, Grammy died on Easter Sunday. I had been back just a few hours and got a call from the nurse. I was the only person to bolt up there to see her. She was quite alert. She asked for a fish fry, bloody mary and a cigarette. I looked at the nurse and asked her to turn a blind eye, which she did. Thank you.
Spent the afternoon coloring eggs, then she said she's not see me again and she was true to her word. I got the call yesterday afternoon that she passed quietly. So today I got her ashes and threw them out on Lake Winnebago. (Don't go fishing locals.) Screwed up attempt, I might say. It was windy. Ugh. She wanted them to go to the fish so they could be (insert cussing here) mean m/frickers. She was a peach. Definetely a difficult child before the term was coined. She cussed like a sailor, but was secretly very passionate about her family. Unfortunatly, like some of us know, you abandon people like this without really understanding who they are. She's not biologically my Gram, but that doesn't mean anything to me. She is H's, but the entire family has given up on her.
I found her quite interesting. She's been Gram for 18 years. I will miss her humor when you least expect it. I'd see her mentally wandering off in the distant then come up with the best punch line ever. This was the 4th or 5th attempt to convince me to cut off her ankle bracelet so she could walk the two blocks to the local bar. In some sense, I wish I would have done it. Give her the last fun.
Abbey
ABBB bbbeee eeeeee 
