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My gran died in June of last year, but it seems like yesterday. You know something that struck me as weird? I didn't cry at her funeral. I sorta chalk that up to it being a totally Christian funeral, and I couldn't really feel it. However, to this day, I get really sad when I go in her room or tell a story. She had a very dry wit. Sometimes I still get fehklempt or cry a little. Once in a while, I'll break down.
She practically raised me considering my parents worked all of the time. She was so cool, and Goddess could she make a pot of turnip greens and cornbread or any kind of good southern cuisine...ain't talking about chitterlings either...nasty shit. (I have no Southern accent for some strange reason. Bloodrayne can verify that. However, as far as food goes, there's nothing on this earth like turnip greens covered in hot pepper juice and cornbread baked in an iron skillet, except maybe chicken tika masala and lamb kema nan).
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By the time you're twenty-five they will say you've gone and blown it. By the time you're thirty-five I must confide you will have blown them all
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03-25-2006, 06:30 AM
