My fondest memory of my Grandmommy is her open house and loving nature. She welcomed everyone who walked through her door with unconditional love and without judgment. Her home was our safe place — a refuge where we could always feel warmth and comfort surrounding us.
As a child, I remember when we would get hurt, she was right there to dust us off and doctor us up with her famous “monkey’s blood” (if you know, you know). Somehow, whatever it was, it always made everything better.
From the tree in the backyard to the football field in the front, from the living room floor to the back bedroom where we took our naps, every corner of her home held love. It wasn’t just a house — it was a sanctuary.
She made sure you felt that love every single time you walked through the door. Those are memories I will never forget, and I am so incredibly grateful that my children got to experience that same love too.