My grandmother died back in May 2000 after being in the hospital for a few weeks. Her body just gave out and they took her off the tubes and just let her go. She was a constant figure in my life and even though we did not get along while I was growing up she was still a big part of my life and most of that is good stuff.
She had this crochet doll on a shelf and she had 3 others with it. I think it was ironic that she had those for sale for years and not one person bought them and when she died there were four dolls and four granddaughters…Debbie, Naomi, Laura, and I. I just knew this is the one doll I wanted. I didn’t care if I was the youngest one out off the girls, but that doll was mine. I got it. My mom helped me get it. I know my cousins were a little miffed at me because they wanted that doll, but I didn’t care. She was mine.
