She died in December of 2006, six months before Leif and I got married. When I think about our wedding I also think about how she wasn't there to celebrate with us.
The last couple years of her life her memory was starting to fade and so she would often repeat her favorite stories, which I think is the prerogative of anyone over the age of 80. Every time she saw Leif she would faithfully comment on how his name was very Swedish, which made her Swedish-Irish self very happy. But her favorite story and the one most commonly heard was the one about how she and my grandfather met. She was working at a newspaper and he came in one day, for a reason I can't recall at the moment, and asked her if she would like to go into the darkroom with him. He was an amateur photographer and the offer was completely innocent (I think, but grandma was a looker so who knows) but it was funny in its inappropriateness.
She was also a pilot, which was no small accomplishment in those days, and was very close to joining the Women Airforce Service Pilots of WWII. Instead she got married and moved with my grandpa, a petroleum engineer, all over the US and later the world. She raised three children while living in Lebanon and Libya.
Once, years after my grandpa died she told me how she still dreamed of him every night.
When George died one of my thoughts afterward was of grandma and how much I wished she was still around. I thought maybe she would have something to tell me that would help ease the pain a little bit.
This was the second to the last time I ever saw her. We were celebrating her 90th birthday.
She was pretty amazing.
So cool that your grandma was a pilot! She seems like she was an awesome lady.
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