An Open Letter To My Grandma In Heaven, The Holidays Surely Aren't The Same Without You

An Open Letter To My Grandma In Heaven, The Holidays Surely Aren't The Same Without You

Everything about it was perfect, even if it wasn't perfect for her.

My Grandma Bonnie absolutely loved the holidays! It was her favorite time of the year. She had hundreds of Christmas decorations and ornaments ready to go the day after Thanksgiving. Her house was like a walking into Santa's workshop. Everywhere you look there was something surrounding Christmas.

In my Grandma's house, it was anything from watching "Home Alone" to baking to feasting on a home-cooked meal. Christmas was the best in her house. I loved it.

Once my Grandma passed away, I knew Christmastime would never be the same. In our house, Christmas would still be the celebration of Jesus. There would always be a few things missing though. It was everything my Grandma did. I can still remember walking into her house the first Christmas without her. It was bare. There was one thing I wanted more than anything else- for Christmas to be the same way again.

Christmas at my Grandma's house was so special. Everything about it was perfect, even if it wasn't perfect for her. She made Christmas feel like I was a little kid every year. The smell coming from the kitchen with the twinkling lights off of the Christmas tree. Might I add the soft music in the background? It was the best.

My Grandma made everything about the holiday season seem right. Her excitement for it lit up the room! She knew exactly how to make you full, both on food and joy, and it was the best. There will never be another holiday season like it without my Grandma Bonnie.

There was something so special about Christmas at my Grandma's house. Everything seemed so right. Nothing could ruin it. Christmas at my Grandma's house was special. The hours spent in the living room watching Home Alone and crying because it made me laugh so hard is something I will always treasure. Nothing could ever beat her joy at Christmastime, and I will always miss it.

For now, though, I want to say thank you to my Grandma. Thank you for giving me precious childhood memories during the holiday season and leaving me with memories near and dear to my heart. Every time I see a Barbie ornament, I think of you. Every time I hear Christmas songs, I think of you. Every time I see trinkets as you had in the china cabinet, I think of you.


You have given me so much in my short twenty-one years of life, and I am forever thankful. Even though we no longer get to celebrate Christmas with you physically, I know you're celebrating it big time up there. You were the best, Grandma. I could never thank you enough. I'm already in the Christmassy mood just like you would be! I'll make sure to make your famous dishes this year!

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I'm A Woman And You Can't Convince Me Breastfeeding In Public Is OK In 2019

Sorry, not sorry.


Lately, I have seen so many people going off on social media about how people shouldn't be upset with mothers breastfeeding in public. You know what? I disagree.

There's a huge difference between being modest while breastfeeding and just being straight up careless, trashy and disrespectful to those around you. Why don't you try popping out a boob without a baby attached to it and see how long it takes for you to get arrested for public indecency? Strange how that works, right?

So many people talking about it bring up the point of how we shouldn't "sexualize" breastfeeding and seeing a woman's breasts while doing so. Actually, all of these people are missing the point. It's not sexual, it's just purely immodest and disrespectful.

If you see a girl in a shirt cut too low, you call her a slut. If you see a celebrity post a nude photo, you call them immodest and a terrible role model. What makes you think that pulling out a breast in the middle of public is different, regardless of what you're doing with it?

If I'm eating in a restaurant, I would be disgusted if the person at the table next to me had their bare feet out while they were eating. It's just not appropriate. Neither is pulling out your breast for the entire general public to see.

Nobody asked you to put a blanket over your kid's head to feed them. Nobody asked you to go feed them in a dirty bathroom. But you don't need to basically be topless to feed your kid. Growing up, I watched my mom feed my younger siblings in public. She never shied away from it, but the way she did it was always tasteful and never drew attention. She would cover herself up while doing it. She would make sure that nothing inappropriate could be seen. She was lowkey about it.

Mindblowing, right? Wait, you can actually breastfeed in public and not have to show everyone what you're doing? What a revolutionary idea!

There is nothing wrong with feeding your baby. It's something you need to do, it's a part of life. But there is definitely something wrong with thinking it's fine to expose yourself to the entire world while doing it. Nobody wants to see it. Nobody cares if you're feeding your kid. Nobody cares if you're trying to make some sort of weird "feminist" statement by showing them your boobs.

Cover up. Be modest. Be mindful. Be respectful. Don't want to see my boobs? Good, I don't want to see yours either. Hard to believe, I know.

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Knowing That Someone You Love Is Going To Pass Doesn't Make It Any Easier

Death is never easy to deal with, not even when you know it's coming.


I met Grandmom Doris when I was around 7, so I've known her for the better part of my life. She is my dad's wife's grandmother, but that doesn't mean I loved her any less. I have so many fond memories of making soup with her on rainy days, making mini pigs in blankets in her kitchen before parties with our cousins, walking to the McDonald's that was around the corner from her house, hearing the ice cream man and knowing Grandmom had a drawer with "Mister Toftee" money in it, because she knew how much we loved vanilla ice cream with rainbow jimmies.

She told us stories of when growing up, and we listened to her in awe. She had such a strong voice and the best laugh, and she touched the hearts of so, so many.

I remember playing hide and seek in her huge house and playing dress-up with her old clothes. We did Thomas Kinkade puzzles together, and of course, we sang and danced together too. We always had family Christmas parties at her house, and we loved doing word searches together. When she got her automatic stair climber, my sister and I loved to ride it up and down and up and down.

From the moment she met my sister and me, we were her girls. Our dad would say he'd bring his girls over to see her and she'd immediately correct him and remind him that we were hers.

Last Wednesday morning, we lost Grandmom Doris. We knew it was going to happen, and we've known for years now that it was coming. But, that didn't make it any easier to hear by any stretch of the imagination. We went to visit her the Saturday before, knowing it may very well have been the last time we'd ever see her.

I knew her time was coming to an end, but I didn't know she had only four days left.

I didn't want to go see her at first. I wasn't sure what kind of mental or physical state she was in, and I didn't want my final memories of her to be negative ones of her lying helpless in her bed.

I decided to go, and I will forever be so glad that I did. She was alert, and even sort of remembered my sister and me. Immediately upon seeing her, I realized how much I had missed her over the last few years.

She had pretty severe dementia, and she struggled to remember a lot, especially towards the end. She wanted my sister and me to sing for her, and of course, we did. We sang her John Denver, and we sang her L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole. It was on her CD as "Mama's Song," which is what all the adults in the family called her. She even sang some of it with us.

When we said goodbye to her for the last time, she took our hands and she told us "I'll never forget my girls," and she wouldn't let go.

We'll never forget you either Grandmom.

She lived a good life, surrounded by a family and friends who loved her unconditionally. She was 89, and all 89 of her years were spent loving those family and friends right back. I'd give anything just to hear another one of her stories.

I am so grateful that I had the privilege of knowing and loving such a wonderful lady for most of my life. Rest easy Grandmom Doris, you were and still are loved and cherished more than you could ever know. We love you.

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