My grandmother passed away early early this morning. I woke up to an email saying she went quietly and calmly and then I laid in bed a while longer feeling... relief. Joy, even. I keep wondering if I'll cry and I haven't yet. I did so much crying last week, just over the messiness of dying, and I've cried before over how old age and Alzheimer's slowly turned my grandmother into someone near-unfamiliar. But today I am relieved and a sort of tiredhappy. Last week I had a dream about a cathedral with its doors wide open and I feel like my grandmother went through those doors this morning. She's there. She's in peace. She's in Love.
And then I had to do a bakery event. A pretty big one. It went so well, you guys, SO WELL. I said a lot about it on Twitter and Instagram, but I didn't know how to say anything about my grandma. Or if I should. But I wanted to say something eventually - I know many of you helped pray her through this.
Thumbprints is in charge of funeral reception desserts (which, if we're truly honoring my grandmother, will be the only food there.) I hope to write much more about my grandma and what she means to Thumbprints. (Katie: "She taught me how to bake." Me: "She taught me to appreciate a good batter-laden beater.")
Phillip just left for his ski weekend which means there's no one here to judge me if I make a batch of Grandma's fudge frosting (from the recipe book my aunt made for all the grandchildren several years ago) and eat it with a spoon. I bet my grandma would.