Cole slaw

I went to the first funeral of my adult life last weekend.

Aunt Susie, also known lovingly as "Granny Grump," was my grandmother's fourth sibling and first sister amongst her 8 siblings. She had a stroke while visiting my grandmother two weeks ago, and died last week at the hospital after never regaining consciousness. She was 67.

Susie was a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a community leader. She had been active in 4-H for the entirity of her life, teaching and counseling at summer camps, serving on the local and state boards, and leading her own 4-H group, the All-Stars. She was kind and beloved by many, and will certainly be missed.

My Aunt Susie had many quirks. In the 24 years I knew her, she always wore her long, grey hair in a bun on the top of her head, with pencils and pens stuck in the bun jauntily. She said that this kept a writing utensil handy at all times. :-)

Susie loved good food, and the day she had her stroke, she and my grandmother went to my grandmother's house to make fried chicken. On the way, they passed their favorite restaurant, and Susie suggested that they stop for cole slaw. My grandmother talked her out of it, since she had cole slaw at home, but as they ate lunch, Susie talked about how she wished they had picked up the other kind, since it was so much better.

Friday night, before the wake, my mom, grandmother and I all went to that restaurant and had cole slaw. Very quietly, my grandmother said that she wished she had stopped that day, so Susie could have her slaw. My mother took her hand and pointed out that Susie is certainly having her cole slaw now.