A Farewell

Duchess died on Thursday. Duchess was my grandmother.

Was. I have to say was, now.

Born in Mississippi and a resident of New Orleans for almost all of her life, Duchess was a true Southern woman. She could (and would) talk to anyone, even total strangers. She loved parties, shopping, and jewelry. She wore nothing but high heels until she couldn't walk very well. She never owned a t-shirt or a sweatshirt. She would nevereverever let anyone except for close female family members see her without her face on. Her face was makeup. She was never without it. She had her face on when she died. She wouldn't have had it any other way, I'm sure.

She was 94 years old. It was her time. But I'm very sad that my son will never get to meet his great-grandmother. Cubby will travel with A. and me to New Orleans in a couple of weeks for the funeral. He won't get to meet Duchess, but he will get to meet many other far-flung family members who might otherwise never see him. We'll make a sad occasion as joyous as we can. It will be one last party in honor of a truly unique woman.

And that's exactly the way Duchess would have wanted it.