The other day on my way home from the office a song came on the radio that brought me to tears. My father's mother is dead, she has been dead since October 29, 1993, but there are times when I cannot help but miss her, and all that she meant to me.
If I had to call any person on the face of this planet by the terminology "Mother" then she would get first chances. This woman raised me from the time that I was three months old when my father, and mother divorced, and my father one custody of me, and my mom's other son whom was not his child, but he adopted.
My father moved us in with my Grandma who placed it upon herself to raise us, and this she did to the best of her ability having been 65 when I was born in 1977. It was not as difficult to raise me as it was my older brother whom was a trouble maker of the worse degree, but she managed her best.
She is dead, and according to her beliefs, and my beliefs, this mean that she is in a state of unconsciousness, and thus I attempt to not think of her too often, or cry over her, but there are times that I miss her so dearly that I cannot help but cry, and pray that she was till here with me this day.
Her memory will always be blessed in my mind, and she will always have a place in my heart!
