Did I ever tell you

Did I ever tell you about my grandmother Betty? Of course both of them were named Betty because it seems that our family is bad with names. (My mom's given name was Sharon, Dad's name was Bob.) Anyway, now that both my grandmothers have passed on I can safely say that Grandma Betty (dad's mom) was my favorite.

She was really cool. You could tell her anything and she would never freak out. She was easy to talk to and brimming with the wisdom of someone way older than you. One school year she was working near my high school. I would go and meet her after school and she would drive me home. We would talk, I can't remember about what, but she always had unconditional love and kindness, even for her scruffy, long haired grandson.

I was a difficult kid. I had a terrible temper and I was often moody. I was always complaining about not having enough friends, especially the female sort. I got high a lot, and I really didn't apply myself to the schoolwork. (I suppose I have overcome at least some of this)

None of this really mattered to Grandma. She always gave reasoned advice. She didn't scold me. And no matter what, it was always abundantly clear that she loved me, and that she really cared about me the person, and not how I acted, or what I did or didn't do.

After she died (lung cancer, it was not pleasant, don't smoke) I found a little framed cardboard plaque in her things. I have always cherished it because it encapsulated her incomparable philosophy of how to love your loved ones. I have tried to take her advice whenever I could.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.