Logotopia, and the Little Twisted Nerve: On the Death of my Grandmother

Logotopia, and the Little Twisted Nerve: On the Death of my Grandmother:

My grandmother died last week.

And for the record she did not pass away, pass on, cross over, or expire like a magazine subscription and she was not, god forbid, born into eternity. Like the sensible intelligent woman she was, she died. I had thought that I should eulogize her in some way, and I've been trying to think all week (away from a reliable computer) of what I would say. My perspective of her is somewhat narrow. People ask "Were you close?", and I don't really have a solid yes or no for that. As far back as I can remember, when Christmas would roll around, I would spend the weekend before at her house making candy for family and friends. That was my Christmas, even moreso than gifts and trees and Santa Claus. In that time she never judged or disparaged me, but accepted whatever I was wearing, wherever I was pierced, what color my hair was, and what I was doing with my life. Apart from Christmas though, I never saw her. I didn't call her or come visit. She rarely told me stories about her life, and looking back I realize I didn't know much about her apart from my candy-making relationship with her and that I liked her. So were we close? I guess you can judge that for yourself.