Why love= food for me

 In August 2011 my paternal grandma had a series of strokes.  After spending some time in the hospital she was able to attend both of my sisters weddings that were to soon take place and she also was able to go home.  At the time, we knew that the Grandma Rufie of the past wasn't going to be coming back to us.

 My Grandma Rufie loved nothing more than to have everyone over to her house, preferably to feed all of us.  She spent countless hours in the kitchen, often times a crowded kitchen, literally making her love for us something tangible.  As soon as you stepped foot into the house, Grandma was offering food and drink to you.  It didn't matter if you had just eaten, you still weren't taken care of until you had at least a drink in hand or food in your belly.

 She used to take all of us grand kids for the night when we were all younger.  She would make tons of food for us, stay up all night teaching us poker, let us use all the blankets we needed to make forts and she indulged as a much as she could.  Even after family dinners when we had cookies and coffee for dessert, she would sneak us some Oreos to take on the ride home!  

 My grandma supported us no matter what.  When I moved to go to college I tried to make it home at least once a month to visit and I went back to school just about every month with fresh tortillas and food.  When I got engaged, my grandma gave me a set of embroidered flour-sack towels; I've never used them and have kept them safe in my closet so as to not ruin them.  When we had Wesley's baby shower, she apologized that she hadn't got a gift for me yet (she wasn't driving anymore at that time) but gave us some money to get Wes what he needed.  

 When Wes was born, just as when all of the grand kids were born, my grandma was instantly smitten and loved nothing more than to hold him.  She would reach for him as soon as she saw him and was content to just sit with him in her lap for as long as possible.  

 In November Grandma took a turn for the worse.  She had been slowly declining in health in the last two years, having fallen a few times and slowly losing movement and speech functions.  But it seemed that all of a sudden she wasn't here, calling people by the wrong names and not being able to swallow and speaking in Spanish when she knew some of us only spoke English. 

 On November 11 everyone who was able came to the house to say goodbye to Grandma.  On November 14, around seven in the morning Grandma Rufie died.  I have to say that I felt more relief than grief at that point.  My Grandma had been suffering for the last few years and she wasn't anymore.  I can't imagine what it was like to be trapped by a failing body and not be able to communicate as well as you used to.  

 I've tried to remember specific things from before the stroke and it's hard to do.  When I would come home to visit after I moved away she would always sit down with me and gossip and I have a hard time hearing her voice.  Her exact smell, the mixture of her perfume and her personal scent is lost to me now.  

 Anyway, that weekend I was okay as long as I had something to do.  I got to my grandparent's house and my sister was tasked with writing the obituary.  Together she and I got something together, something that I hope conveyed how much Grandma loved her family.  I then got to work on a memorial video for her.  With every one's help with pictures and my grandpa's song suggestions, I was able to make a video for her viewing.  Once I was done with that, though, I had a much harder time.

 Again, I wasn't really upset for me as I was for my Grandpa.  My grandpa was forced to retire early after a heart attack and then several years later went blind, with no explanation.  He hasn't allowed these restraints to stop him from doing what he loves, like playing guitar and gardening.  It's been very hard to watch Grandpa break down crying.  My grandparents were one week away from there 63rd wedding anniversary when Grandma died; after that much time together how do  you live without one another?

 Watching my aunts and dad grieve has been very hard to watch as well.  There isn't a magic cure-all for grief and words aren't enough when you lose a family member, especially a parent.  Trying to be there and do as much as I can for them, I hope that helped.  

 The viewing and funeral were really hard to go to.  I'm not ashamed to say that I hardly spent any time up at the casket.  My Grandma was already gone and even though her body was still here, what made my Grandma my Grandma was already gone.  I'm not sure that seeing her in the casket is the last way I want to remember her.
 I've been working on a Christmas gift for my aunts and it has evolved from what I had originally planned.  I wanted to get one of my Grandma's recipes and print it out on fabric and give it as a tea towel.  I had a recipe picked and ready at home when everything happened last month.  Now, I'm going to make a recipe book with her handwritten recipe cards and some photos.
 Grandma Rufie was very organized with her recipes, she had several boxes of clipped and handwritten recipes.  There were often multiples and most of her recipe cards only hold ingredients; no baking directions because she knew what needed to be done.  She had many wrapped in plastic wrap or plastic sleeves so that they wouldn't be ruined while in use.  As I've been scanning them, I had to unwrap some of them and I was able to smell her every now and then.