No, not the award show.

My grandma.

Isn’t she beautiful?

As a kid, I spent a good chunk of my formative years in the company of my paternal grandparents. In a lot of ways, they were just as much my parents as my mom and dad.

If there are two people in the world that I can credit (or blame) for the person I am today, it’s my grandparents.

When I think about my grandma, I remember so many little things – the way her eyes crinkle up when she smiles, her enormous grin, her laughter, her compassion, the way she and I both choke up at the same types of sappy things. How she always thought that I was the best artist, singer, photographer, whathaveyou in the entire world. Or at least, made me feel like I was.

I remember the day I gave her a hug and noticed that I was taller than she was.

I remember how much she loved flowers, and how good she was at arranging them. Her cooking. The way she always cared for and protected me. Her laugh! Her laugh is every bit as loud and silly as mine is. I love it.

How mad she could get! We definitely had our arguments.

How very, very much I love her.

My grandma had a stroke on Monday.

She is paralyzed on the left-hand side of her body, though she is slowly regaining movement. She’s at home now because she can’t stand hospitals.

I know that she’s ready to go. She asked me to put together her will for her a couple months ago, and I dragged my feet for the longest time because I just…couldn’t face the idea of being without her in my life. It seemed like putting her will together for her would be like saying that it’s okay for her to go, okay for her to leave me, and I just…couldn’t do it.

Eventually I did, because she needed me to, but it still makes me sad to think about it. It’s incredibly selfish, I know. I can hear her voice in my head scolding me for not thinking of others instead of just thinking of myself. She was always better at that than I was.

We’ve had so many discussions about end-of-life and death, and moving on, and what happens next. She’s so much braver than I will ever be. She’s at peace, and wants me to be at peace. Even writing this, I can’t help getting all teary-eyed, because I just don’t want to face the rest of my life without my grandma in it.

I want to give her an enormous hug and tell her how sorry I am for every angry word, every missed phone call, every day that went by where I didn’t call her specifically to tell her how much I care and how glad I am to have had her in my life. I hope she knows.

I just wanted to share with you how awesome she is.

I love you, grammies. I will always love you and cherish the time I have with you.