We will see you again, Grandma

Novermber 13, 2012 will forever be etched in my brain until the day I die. It is the day I lost my Grandma Beva.
She had been going downhill for a few days and my mom did warn us kids that her days were numbered so we could prepare ourselves for the inevitable. No matter how much you try to convince yourself that it is a blessing, it doesn't make it any easier. I don't think anyone is ever truly prepared to lose a loved one and it is never easy to watch that person fade before your very eyes. Especially when it was someone like my Grandma.
My Grandma Beva was so full of life, love and happiness. She embraced each day as a blessing and did everything within her power to make it a good day, no matter the weather or the circumstances. She could always find that elusive silver lining.
I have so many memories of my Gramma, some vivid and some a little hazy, but all of them good. Holidays come to the forefront of my mind when I think of her. Thanksgiving  and Christmas were always full of fun, food and family. Gramma would cook up a storm and there was always enough to feed an entire platoon of starving soldiers. Turkey, stuffing, ham, mashed potatoes (a little lumpy please, Gram!), lasagna, oyster stew, homemade bread and cookies and pies...treats for everyone. I don't ever remember her sitting to enjoy the fruits of her labour, but I do remember her standing and surveying her handiwork and standing over the sink to eat so that way there was always room for someone else.
Christmas was extra special as a kid because it always meant that Gramma made you a special gift. I remember at the age of 4, she had made all of us grandkids homemade rag dolls. Mine (I thought) was the most beautiful of them all. They were all made to match our hair and eye colour. I named mine Laura because she was dressed like a pioneer girl (aka Laura Ingalls Wilder) in a red cotton dress with a red sun bonnet and little black felt mary janes on her stocking feet. She still sits on my dresser in my bedroom.
After gifts we would start to clean up and get ready to go home. I remember clutching my doll to my chest and not letting Mom put it in the laundry basket to carry home. Gramma would help bundle us up and make sure we had on our hats and mittens (that she, of course, made) and giving us a big kiss and a tight squeeze she would say, "Remember, Jenny, in this family we never say goodbye, we say 'We will see you again.'"
So, Gramma, you may be gone from this earth, but you will never be forgotten and will always be loved and missed.
And in your loving words,
"We will see you again."