I miss my Granny.
The woman of everything.
The woman of fresh, homemade chocolate chip cookies.
The woman who woke you up at 4 am to pick blackberries before the California heat settled in.
The woman who made jelly from those blackberries.
The woman who grew the largest tomatoes in her garden.
The woman who snapped green beans on her porch swing.
The woman who could silence an argument or misbehavior by a simple look.
She held it all.
This is my Granny. My rock.
She had the answers.
To be her, would be an honor.