If I could stand the taste of martinis, I'd raise one in her honor, but since I can't, I made spaghetti sauce. The real kind, from scratch, the way she always made it. Even down to the homegrown tomatoes. My house smells like her house used to, and that makes me happy.
Miss you, Grandma. Miss our debates and your stubbornness and your feisty spirit and your love.
Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.