Fatale Abstraction

The photo on the far right shows my grandma Smith when she married my grandpa in 1936, and my aunt took the near photo quite recently. With an earthy beauty I would liken to Ingrid Bergman, my grandmother was a handsome and elegant woman, with capable strength and energy that defied the ravages of time and Alzheimer's. She was a quiet and unpretentious person, taking delight in her gardening and keeping a fastidious home. No animals were allowed inside her house, but she liked to have cats around the farm. An occasional crafty cat might find its way in, but would soon be sent airborne out grandma's door, courtesy of an obliging broom. Grandma was the very epitome of grit, and my dad told me many times of picking fruit with the family for money, and he and grandma each picked double the volume of anyone else. I remember as a young girl seeing her heading out to feed animals a long walk away with a 100 pound bag of feed on one shoulder and a five-gallon bucket of water in the other hand. She was the modern representation of a pioneer woman, uncomplaining of her lot and a comforting presence to all the family. She had bright, clear blue eyes and an adorable smile that was just on the verge of timid, as if she were a bit thrifty with the humor. She grew amazing strawberries and made toe-curling apple pie and chocolate cakes, all from scratch. I don't know how on earth she did it, but her potatoes and green beans were absolute miracles - they were the best ever, and something I'll miss the rest of my life. Grandma died about two hours ago, and I feel lucky and blessed to have had her for so long. Albert Einstein said if he could see farther than others, it was because he was standing on the shoulders of giants. My grandma's strength, constancy and very goodness made her a giant to all those who knew and loved her. She was a lovely treasure and will be dearly missed.