Going back.

This is a photo of myself in younger days and my Grandma Testa. I think maybe this was around 1996 or so. It was Christmas Eve. My Man had bought me the sweater I was wearing.

I don't remember who took the photo. What I do remember is that when asked to take the photo with me, my Grandmother got so happy, she stretched her arm around me neck, squeezed me to her and we are beaming. Here is the proof.

My grandmother was a strong beautiful, independent woman. Here are some words you might bandy about on her behalf, piece worker, mother, sister, bootlegger's wife, a cook, a love, my personal saint of all things sewing. She bought me my first sewing machine and marveled at my ability to read a pattern.

Where my Grandma Creamer was a soft bundle of Grandmotherly love and affection, Grandma Testa was a, 'give me that lollipop, sit down and shut up.' kinda gal.

She stands with me now, I can feel her.