my grandma is in heaven.

I had just wrapped up an evening out with friends when my beautiful pregnant sister walked thru the door and I knew something was not right with my grandma. As we walked out the door to the car she told me that grandma was already gone. It didn't sink in, until we got to the hospital and one look at grandma and you knew she wasn't there anymore. No longer struggling for every breath, no longer in pain, gone.
I didn't cry until my grandpa welcomed me into the room. "Oh, Maria, I didn't know you had arrived; it's good of you to come." He then told me about Grandma's love for her grandchildren and how their devotions every morning consisted of praying for missionaries and grandchildren...they would trade off (being the fair minded man he is) but he said that Grandma always preferred praying for us grandkids.
I know that as grandkids you always wanted to be the 'favorite'. Not that grandma ever had a favorite but there were times when she would just praise certain kids to the sky-and we always wanted to be 'that' extrodinary' person that grandma was describing. You always wanted to live up to grandma's praise but also never minded if she went a bit overboard. After all you wanted to be in her good graces, which included receiving the much coveted daily light, the cinnamin buns with walnuts, the chocolate pie and knowing that everytime you would eat at her house she would always have canned corn (hey, I like corn) because she knew you liked it.
In the end though, we all knew that we were her most favorite people. And she never pittid us against eachother or told us to be more like a different grandchild. We just always knew that we were special in her eyes and felt like we were the favorite.
I once told her how undeserving I felt of such praise and allegience and she very seriously turned to me and told me that there was nothing I could ever do to lose her love. And as much as I don't think I would have faith in many to stand by such a powerful statement, I believed her. Because she is my grandma.
So after many tears, singing don't sit under the apple tree, praying for Grandpa and watching Grandma slowly fade, it's done. She is gone, but I will always have that little nudge from her to 'do it my own dumb way'...or... everyone is weird but me and thee and even thee, thee is a little weird... and many more wise words from Grandma