I thought that She walked on water

I loved [her] and [she] loved me

Lord I cried the day [she] died

'Cause I thought that [she] walked on water

My beloved Gramma was born 96 years ago. She was the second of 6 children born in a completely different time. She was gentle and kind. She was funny. She was naive. She believed in the best in everyone. To know her love was the greatest gift you could ever receive. She was a wonderful cook. We teased her mercilessly, and she knew she was loved. She always said "I don't know why you love me, I'm just glad that you do." She grew up in the Southern Baptist tradition and never thought she was good enough. Her home was an aromatic blend of Avon, scented candles, chocolate pies, turnip greens and cabbage, old picture books. She loved to drink Coke with peanuts in it. I loved to sit in her kitchen and watch her cook. She was a penny-pincher. She loved Neopolitan icecream. The skin on her cheek was the softest thing I've ever felt. I can still catch her scent when I open her Manger Set every Christmas but it is fading after four year. She loved babies. She never met a stranger. She loved pepperoni pizza. She loved to read signs out loud while driving. She repeated questions a million times. She answered the phone "Joe's Junkyard, Lou speaking." She loved music but couldn't 'carry a tune in a bucket.' I think the champagne we talked her into on my college graduation day was the first alcohol she'd ever tasted. She was a fierce supporter of those she loved. She wanted things to be fair. She wore rose-colored glasses. My cousins and I would fight over who got to spend the weekend with her. She loved numbers. She was silly and sweet and playful. She proudly displayed the American flag. She had a green thumb. She loved to play Scrabble and word games. Her chocolate pies were the best in the world. She walked off a plane once with a rolling pin in her hand because I'd asked her to make the crusts from scratch. I think she made more than 30 pies for visitors while helping my mom over some surgery. She was sentimental. She cried at the drop of a hat, happy and sad. I once found her doubled over with silent laughter while watching a Ball Park frank cook. She was treated poorly by my grandfather but loved him until the day she died. The love and support that she gave us carried us all thru many trials. Introducing my boys to her was one of the proudest moments of my life. Having her bring on their first laughs was a true gift for my soul. I miss her every day.

My stepfather and I were talking recently; I mentioned how often the boys will remind me of her in some way and how surprised I always was because they never really got to know her. "They know you" he said. That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

We had a birthday party for her tonite, complete with a living room picnic, pepperoni pizza and birthday cake with the closest I could find to red roses

Happy Birthday, Granny Lou!

Randy Travis's He Walked On Water