I'm not sure how to even start elegantly, so I guess I'll be blunt. My grandmother died 2 days ago (at the time I am writing this), on the 23rd of December. She didn't have cancer or anything like that. She died of old age mostly, and some other health stuff. She was 89. Thankfully, not only did I get to see her before I flew home to Belgium for the holidays, but my brother, sister, parents and I managed to facetime one of my aunts in order to see her and basically say goodbye to her. We found out she died a couple hours later. So, this week, I want to dedicate this article to her. She was one of the people who constantly encouraged me to write and we often read together. I was very close with her.

My grandma, Virginia Ann Brown Graham, lived an amazing life. She was an only child, and grew up with parents who were very ahead of their time, seeing as they encouraged her to pursue acting. She grew up a very happy kid, full of life and excitement. She had so many amazing stories. She was Miss Pennsylvania for a while and she had many stories about her high school days. She went to college in New York to study acting. She actually met her husband while they were working on a commercial together, back when they filmed live commercials. They got married and then went on to have 8 kids together. 5 girls and 3 boys, my Dad being one of them.

There are so many stories I've heard from my parents and aunts that I could talk about. Like how one time she knew that they were going to get the wall paper replaced, so she let all the kids in the neighborhood come and draw on her walls and play with water guns in the house. Or all the stories about the kids she took in for foster care (One of my uncles actually was in the foster care system, and my grandma and grandpa took him in and eventually adopted him.) Or I could talk about how incredibly strong she was when my grandfather died when my Dad was 17.

But, I guess what I really want to talk about is what she meant to me as a grandmother. I have 5 cousins. One older than me, and the rest are slightly younger than me and my brother. When the eldest cousin was old enough to speak, she got to name my grandma. My grandma didn't want to be called 'grandma' or something like that. So she tried to get my cousin to say "Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah!" (she had been a cheerleader in high school) and because my cousin was quite young at the time, it came out 'Sisabah.' And so from then on we called her Sisabah, Sis for short.

I was born in England, so I don't really remember what she was like when I was really little. But, once I moved to the states, I of course saw her more frequently. Sis and I had a lot in common. We both loved to read, and later write, and we both loved acting. One of her favourite memories that she reminded me of a lot was how one time (well probably more than once) we were both sitting in the living room, each with our own books, reading together in silence.

Sisabah always had a sense of fun about her. Her favourite word was fun. She would never say something sucked. It was always 'fun' or 'no fun.' Every Halloween she would dress up as the witch and 'scare' all the kids who came trick or treating. She loved throwing big parties for our birthdays. At said parties, there was this tradition where even though there were obviously gifts for the birthday kid, we played fish pond. Fish pond was basically a sheet hung across the entrance to the laundry room. To visit fish pond you had to perform something (anything). Then you would go 'fishing' in the fish pond where Sis would be the witch of the fish pond and you got a present (usually something from the dollar store).

At one point in her life, she had been a flight attendant, so when we were younger, she used to do this thing called 'flight attendant' where if all the kids were in the back room watching tv or playing games, she would ask what we wanted to eat and then she would make it and bring it to us. One of the things she used to make which I always loved was chicken noodle soup (with some added cream of mushroom for me). It was just plain old chicken soup, but there was something about the way she made it.

In the last couple years, as she has gotten older, she hasn't been as active in the party planning and such, much to her ever lasting aggravation. She hated being bored. It was almost like she stayed a little kid. She had these bright, beautiful blue eyes that even this past summer, stayed just as bright.

She was so excited when I told her I was moving back to the states to go to college. Especially since it was so close to her house (only about 20 minutes by the L). I got to live with her and spend a lot of time with her, that I now know I took for granted. But I am happy I had the time with her.

She was such an amazing lady. She always made sure you knew she cared for you. She was the life of the party, with enough energy for everything. She was full of life and goodness and kindness. She always had her door open to anyone in need. She was truly a woman of God and I know that she is up there right now, dancing away with her husband, laughing that wonderful laugh of hers. She touched so many lives and lived an amazing incredible life.

Sis, ever the realist about death, always said that she didn't want a funeral. She wants a FUN-eral, which is exactly what we are going to be giving her on Monday. (I will not be there since flights are expensive. We can only afford for my Dad to go home for a week.)

And while I am sad about her death, I also know it was the right time. All her kids are grown and are all on their paths in life. Three of her grandkids are already in college, and the youngest grandkid is just turning 13. It was time for her to go. So yes, I am sad...but it's kind of like a beautiful sadness.

I'm gonna miss you Sis. I love you.