A Tribute to One of the Last Ladies

"A beautiful lady is an accident of nature. A beautiful old lady is a work of art."

God has a random, ironic way of putting in front of you what's important in the most unexpected ways. Late on Thursday night, I decided to paint "designer" Easter eggs (suprise suprise... Comme des Garçons or Chanel, anyone? haha). As I pulled the eggs from the fridge, I had to think for a second how you're even supposed to make them. Realizing you have to boil the eggs first, I had a little moment. "I can do that," I thought to myself, literally laughing aloud for a sec. Of course I can... my grandma taught me how.

Instantly, I was brought back to my grandma's house. I was ten years old, standing barefoot and leggy in her kitchen. As my grandma prepared my grandpa and I breakfast on that sunny summer morning, she informed me that "Every girl needs to know how to make the perfect egg." I laughed and rolled my eyes, thinking she was crazy. As much of a girly girl as I was, I definitely didn't care if I knew how to boil an egg (much less cook). Despite my protest, my grandma taught me how to boil an egg that morning. And scramble them. And make them sunny-side up. "One day, when you're all grown up... you're going to thank me. Trust me, every woman needs to know how to boil an egg."

Standing in my kitchen (still leggy and barefoot), making my very first batch of Easter eggs in my first place, I had to take a minute to mentally thank my grandma. Not just for the cooking lesson; of course. It runs so much deeper than that. I am thankful for all of the life lessons she has given me. It's bittersweet writing this, because she's still around... she's just been in end-of-life hospice (actually since the day Felipe passed away in January). I haven't been able to bring myself to visit her as much as I'd like, because to be honest, it's just been too painful. The thought of losing someone else close again kills me. She isn't herself anymore... and that really hurts.

I want to take a moment to pay tribute to my grandma, before she's gone. I've told her how much I love her, but there's so much more I need to say. I want to thank her... for keeping my mom's memory alive for me. For telling me endless stories about my mom that I can someday pass on to my own children. For having tea parties with me when I was a little girl, always letting me use her finest china sets and expensive teas. For all the times she let me play with her makeup, before I was old enough to have my own. For teaching me about beauty- the important inner kind- before there was a "Beauty With A Bow." For showing me what a beautiful, healthy marriage is supposed to be, and for loving my grandpa as openly and affectionately as she did. For showing me how love can transcend time, space, and even death. For all the times she made me go with her to Catholic mass, despite my protests. For making me wear dresses constantly, to the point where that's all I want to wear now. For being a wonderful mother and grandmother to a huge family, but always managing to make me feel special. For traveling the world and sharing her experiences with me, passing on wanderlust. For teaching me how to cook, for teaching me how to tie a bow, for teaching me how to tie a tie. For reminding me to say "please" and "thank you," for demonstrating graciousness and kindness.

For showing me how to act like a lady in a world that accepts and promotes less than lady-like behavior.

I am so much of who I am because of my grandmother's influence. This woman is someone I respect with all of my heart. I may not be able to come to terms with the fact that she will not be around much longer, but I do know how much she has touched my life... and somehow, some way I hope that I can touch others through the things she has taught me. That it will all come full circle.

I guess that's what life's about, isn't it?