Toast.

I really need to go take a shower and get ready to go out with Andy. But I feel like I need to write this really quickly first.

I was having a conversation with someone at work the other day about the bread that we use, and how we both really like it and could easily eat an entire loaf of it and it brought up a really good memory of my Grandma Ann.

In recent years, I haven't had a good relationship with that side of my family. She was my mom's mom, and I haven't had much contact with anyone from that side in like 6, almost 7 years. She died over the summer and it was hard for me to deal with. She'd been sick for awhile, and no one saw fit to tell me that she was hospitalized for over a month. They only called me (not even me, they called my sister and she had to text me and tell me while I was at work) when they thought she was going to die. Like literally, thought she had hours left.

I freaked, of course. Started crying in the middle of the kitchen, had to leave work and go fall apart at my friend Jess's house for a few minutes. I went to see her, and she looked almost unrecognizable to me. It was really hard, but I'm glad I got to see her before she died. She didn't die that day though. Apparently a week or so later they sent her home, essentially because there was nothing else they could do. And when she died, my aunt TEXT MESSAGED my sister to tell her. Again, I had to find out from Jess.

Back to the good memory though. I used to get off the school bus at the auto repair garage that she and my uncle ran together. I'd sit with her for the rest of the afternoon and eat toast. I could eat an entire loaf of French bread in an afternoon. Her toaster made the best toast ever. We used to just sit and talk and watch TV and eat toast in the office together.

I don't know why, but its one of my favorite memories of Grandma Ann. I think because we didn't spend a lot of time one-on-one, so that was special to me. And it was when things were still good with that side of the family. Before my mother got out of control and everyone turned a blind eye to the fact that she was ruining her life and taking her children down with her.

I miss that. I miss when things were good, and I had my Grandma Ann. We would eat toast. And she'd let me play in her "jewelry room" (the spare bedroom where she kept massive amounts of jewelry). And show me the catalogs of flower bulbs she was going to order.

This is kind of what her toaster looked like.

Grandma Ann and a tiny me, standing outside the auto repair shop.