Great Grandma
The funeral wasn’t something you would expect necessarily.
Especially for someone who seemed so… quiet.
I guess its true what they say. You never truly know a person.
You never know what your coworker does in their free time or what your professor does when they’re alone.
Heck, you mag not even know who your grandma truly is, for the better or the worst.
I sit here in this enormous hall filled with memories of life reminiscing my dear grandmother.
The crowd filled with all sorts of people.
From an apple-bees workers to several priests to a possible former drag queen to a circus worker.
My grandmothers funeral was well attended.
I sit here in awe of this sweet little old catholic woman who seemed so timid and fragile.
Loved by everyone she laid an eye on.
Unless you were an awful person she loved you and you felt it.
Even then, she would try to fill your sad heart with all the love in the world.
She might not of understood your life, but she respected.
She didnt look down on you because you struggled or because you didnt take the “traditional path”.
