Today is the day. My grandma, Frances, was born on this day in 1916. She was one of the most influential people in my life. She taught me to respect the arts and took me to every symphony, opera, museum event she could, even when I wasn't the most receptive audience. I learned how to read music at about the same time I learned to read because of her. She thought the most important card in anyone's wallet was a library card, and she knew with great conviction reading made people richer.
She knew how important laughing was to life. Oh my goodness, she would laugh with complete abandon, until tears ran down her beet red face, waving her hands at you to stop! stop! stop! before she burst. She knew it was equally important to life to be passionate and fired up about something. Passion feeds the soul, gets the blood pumping, the adrenaline surging, and it makes you feel you're alive. Everyone should be passionate about something. To reflect to the world disinterest is to breed disinterest within, and the world needs passion.
I can't count the number of times she asked my grandfather to go for a drive and ask to "just get lost" in a dreamy voice. She asked this of someone who knew the city like it was his bathroom, and he would respond that he couldn't. To her, life was an adventure waiting to happen. I get my travel itch from her.
I learned how to cook in her kitchen, a skill my family and friends are glad I honed. People have changed plans and driven long distances when they knew I was making a dish I learned in her kitchen. She taught herself how to cook, since when she was a newlywed, she literally could not even crack an egg. I learned to experiment in her kitchen, even if the outcome was horrible. The only failure lies in not trying. There wasn't a butcher in her neighborhood who hadn't been asked the question, "yes, this is lovely, but what do you have in BACK?" because it never hurt to ask.
She's been gone almost 20 years, and there isn't a day I don't miss her.
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