My Grandmother, part one.

I was able to,  through some rather unfortunate circumstances, spend some quality time with my Grandmother (Mary) this past week.  She is an amazing woman of 91. But truth be told, it wasn't until her 90th birthday that we actually knew her age (she always told us she was 19 or 21!).  Her "Mama" lived by the philosophy that a woman should never tell her age, and she didn't.  "Mama" was in fact buried with only her date of death on her tombstone.  How cheeky.
My Mary is the greatest story teller I've ever met.  She is the perfect hostess, well spoken and well traveled. And has always had amazing penmanship (everything in perfect loopy cursive!!).  She's someone I admire greatly and who I aspire to be.

xo
erin