My grandma passed away this afternoon, peacefully, without pain, in her sleep.
Sometimes, when I get asked what I'll remember most about someone, it takes a while to figure out. Not with Grandma Blanche. She taught me to knit. She gave me this skill... but it's more than a skill. It was something that we shared. We could just sit there in rocking chairs, or on the couch, and knit and chit-chat. It didn't matter that I lived far away and rarely got to see her. We could always talk knitting. When I got to visit her this summer, I even got to teach her a new technique - toe-up socks. Even when there was nothing else to say, the clicking of needles was a conversation in and of itself. She gave me a way to find peace in the midst of this crazy life that I have. I will always think of her when I pick up a set of knitting needles. I'll remember the smile she had when I gave her a white scarf with teal snowflakes embroidered on the ends - my very first knitting project. Sure, it wasn't the most beautiful thing ever, but she loved it. I think, even then, she knew that I would stick with this, and love it.
I love you, Grandma, and I'm going to miss you. A lot. But I promise, I won't forget.