My grandma Bessie was different, and in hindsight that might be the reason I felt such a bond with her. She was a bit eclectic, maybe a little on the wacky side, and even a bit rebellious when compared to her straight-laced-sisters.
I once asked my grandma what her favorite color was. "Red" was her immediate response. I remember thinking at the time how odd that was - I thought everyone's favorite color was blue. No one would ever admit to red being their favorite color. And somehow, my young teenage self thought that it was, in a way, inappropriate to admit to loving the color red. But that was Grandma Bessie. I told you, she was different.
When asked "What's your favorite color," what do you say? I have a tough time with that question. I think it's safe to say that I love them all, but when pressed to choose just one, I'd still be inclined to say blue.
However, I've come to realize that my favorite color is...well...RED. I notice that this color shows up a lot in my photography, in my home decor, my wardrobe, and on my blog. :o)
My grandma Bessie loved me in a way that no one else ever will. I was her first-born grandchild, and she thought I was perfect. Not that I was or am, but in her eyes there was nothing about me that was anything less than perfect. I'm quite certain that she is smiling down on me as I type this blog post, more proud of me than she's ever been.