My wife’s grandmother, Mildred, died yesterday.
She lived to a great old age, and apart from the last year or so, when she really began to decline in health and spirit, she seemed to live a good, happy life. The last time I saw her, I don’t believe she knew who I was. It is, as they say, for the best that she passed.
Mildred was always quick to laugh around me and I enjoyed being in her company. She seemed to have a mischieviousness about her which I appreciated. After her husband died, she remained for many years, alone in the house they shared, and I was often amazed at her ability to keep her house and yard in shape.
She and I shared some good games of cribbage. I believe she beat me more than I beat her. She had a thing for owls.
She was a good, strong person and I have not a single negative memory of her.
She was a great grandmother-in-law.