From quilt to quilt

Her French Silk pie, thawing on the counter for the morning, never made it to our Thanksgiving meal. My sweet Grandmother Cora passed away peacefully in her sleep last night. Her hands were positioned under her cheek as she lay curled up on her side. I think I will always have that image as a gift for she was such a peacemaker in life, so she went softly and gently into that good morning. Thank you, God, for that.
Ah, but things are sad. I can't get my mind off of her and all the gardening love that we shared. Every Spring, we would make a trip to a nearby town's nursery. This past spring, she stayed in my van, and I pulled it close to the greenhouses. I can still see her white hair and hear her laughing out the window as she pointed to a plant for me to survey. It was our personal tradition to buy each other birthday flowers, and this year, we bought two just alike.
"We're just the same!" she'd say emphatically with glee. "We like the flowers!" We would giggle and then head off to Sonic for lunch.
Grandma Cora taught me to love people better. She would see people in Wal-Mart that she thought that she knew and approach them with a hug. Sometimes I've felt as optimistically affectionate, despite any negative experience, and I'm always reminded of her in myself. Yes, I've learned to love better because of how she loved. And, everyone loved her. She was entirely good and sweet. White hair, giggles, stroke-impaired child-like speech, bright blue eyes, steady smile, energy.
A gifted quilter, she would give us quilt tours as she shuffled on her walker from bedroom to bedroom. She was in process with about four quilts which she always wanted to finish before dying. She lived from quilt to quilt in her last years.
This entry cannot do justice to her memory. I'm tired from the drive back and just feel depleted and sad right now. Grandma Cora, just know that I love you always and always want you to be reflected in me. Your life was a gift.