My grandmother died a year ago yesterday, and I can’t believe it.
It’s strange because near the end of her life she didn’t like a lot of visitors, so there are still days when I forget she’s gone since I wasn’t used to seeing her much anyway. …
My grandfather died last Tuesday.
His name was Tebo. Thomas, really, Tom to my grandmother, but Tebo to us.
The stories on why this is are varying. I like to think that I named him, because I’m the oldest grandchild, but in reality I think that people called him T-boy growing up/in college and it kind of stuck/evolved into Tebo.
Not T-bo, T-bow, or Tebow, for the record. Or T-bone. This was a source of great confusion for people throughout his whole life.
First, my great grandfather died a few weeks ago. He was really old, and it was time for him to go. As my sweet mama said, “I think he was just tired.”
Inexplicably, on the same day, Jay got me beautiful flowers while I was spending time with my sister. I didn’t see them until I got home, but by that time Great-Grandpa had already passed away.
It was kind of a nice coincidence. I think he likes me.
Also, I got a new camera! It’s a Canon T3i and I’m in love with it. That’s why I took so many pictures of the flowers.
And, because they were beautiful.