I began blogging for 2 reasons.


1. maternal grandmother.

2. paternal grandmother.


Let’s start with materal grandmother. Many moons ago, my dad lovingly nicknamed his mother-in-law ‘Mother Lovett.’

‘Lovett’ being her last name. And it certainly was her last name, since she was married to brothers.



Yes people, she was married twice – to BROTHERS. How cool is that?


 How 1700’s of her.


Unfortunately, she passed away in late April of this year at the ripe, old age of 87. Her stories live on. And Lordy, let me tell you, THERE ARE STORIES.



We could write a sitcom.



That is an understatement. I wish you could understand.




I will get to the hilarious goods at some point in my blog, but for now I have to give you the excellent background on her so you don’t think I’m hellishly cruel.



She was a baker. A mighty fine one at that. She most likely is the reason I adore baking, and I won’t lie when saying that baking these days occasionally makes me tear up since it is something I used to share with her.



Well, actually when I say ‘share,’ I really mean I took orders from her for a few hours standing in her kitchen.


But that’s a different story.


She suffered 7 miscarriages, and was diagnosed with Menear’s disease in her 20’s, causing her to lose all hearing in one ear. She had macular degeneration, a serious eye disease which cause her to lose almost ALL of her sight. She lost her siblings.  She cared for her cancer-stricken mother in her own home, losing her only 4 months before she lost her first husband, the love of her life. He passed away before I was born, so I never knew my true grandfather.


Luckily for us, she remarried.


His brother. Her brother-in-law.


I know.


I can’t imagine marrying my brother-in-law. Partly because I don’t have one. But if I did, and if he looked like George Clooney, I guess I would.


This truly was a wonderful thing, this marriage of my grandmother and her brother-in-law. He and his wife (don’t worry, she had passed away as well) were never able to have children, which meant by marrying my grandmother, he inherited 2 daughters (or neices….yikes) and 5 grandchilden. Amazing man. Wonderful. Words can’t describe.


However, many times in my life I remember my grandmother telling me about her whirlwind love with her first husband, Gerald. I specifically remember one evening at the beach her eyes welling up with tears when speaking about him.


‘That love was the greatest love I had ever felt. If you ever find that, don’t ever lose it.’ She STILL missed him after more than 30 years. THAT is love.


Perhaps she is where I got my passion from?



The longer she is gone the more I realize what a strong woman she was. Of course, we all knew this as she infuriated us at the age of 86 trimming bushes, climbing ladders, and carrying 40lb pots up the driveway.


I don’t mean strong THAT way.


She lost 2 husbands, and still talked about love. She still wore high heels to church, even though we fought her on it. She still went to church on Sunday, even though she was legally blind, deaf, and hunched over from severe osteoporosis. She walked around with 4 blockages in 3 arteries for 20 years. Suffered a heart attack, multiple broken bones, and bounced back from injuries when the majority of us would believe it was time to give up.


 I better be wearing heels at 87.



Yes we called her stubborn, but now I call her strong.



She was so stubborn strong, she basically refused to die. And we really never thought she would. I mean…REALLY. We were all there to watch her last breath. And she put up a damn good fight.



Again, an understatement.



(Which I find quite odd, since I am extremely dramatic.)



Everyone ALWAYS complimented her on her beauty. She had an excellent sense of style. I never saw the beauty until recently. Of course I loved her, but she was my GRANDMA.


Beauty wasn’t the first thing to come to mind. Seeing how many Reese’s cups I could shove in my mouth at one time without anyone noticing at her house was.


What do you think?
























You will never believe what began her demise.


She had a heart attack while hand-mixing a cake.





She could always do everything better herself, anyways.