It still hurts

I lost my Grandma Betty, 2 weeks ago now. It's still hard to look at these photos. I've learned that early morning phone calls are never a good thing. I had the pleasure of my grandma's presence in my life for 34 years, and that's a blessing. She was so young when she had my mother, and I know most people don't get to enjoy a grandparent for that long. But it makes it infinitely harder to let them go. My grandma always made me laugh. Even as a child in a room full of adults I gravitated toward her like the sun. She was the only person who was at least as likely as I was to get into trouble. :)
This is one of only 2 photos I took at her funeral/wake. I just had to find a way to understand how final this was, as the entire out of state trip made with a dog and a child in 2 days was just surreal. I'll be honest, I love this picture, it's peaceful and beautiful and I needed that. I hope it doesn't seem strange that I took it, I don't think it's morbid at all. My mother needed my sister and I with her and I know now that it was important that I went.
As always, my grandma didn't look like herself at the wake. At all. I hate that. So I took this photo of her picture in the doorway. No matter what, I'll always remember my grandma golden tanned from the golf course, a martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other, with a little smirk cursing under her breath (that would make sailors blush). I love you grandma, and I'll miss you until we met again.
Until tomorrow. It's a Monday. :P