My daughter wrote a really nice eulogy on Facebook:
My grandmama was fearless and strong, holding down a career at a time when women weren’t respected for doing so. She worked at the Alpha Beta corporate office back in the good ‘ol days when you could smoke at your desk and have a cocktail at lunch. Later, she worked for Northrop where she learned to use a computer like a pro even though she was in her late 50s.
She doted on my sister and me, and we were better for it. We would watch Golden Girls (before it was cool) and Lawrence Welk. Any time we spent the night, she would let us stay up late to watch Johnny Carson. She would often get a treat from "52 Flavors" for the two little girls in the back seat of her champagne Cadillac. "Don’t tell your mom,” she'd say. We didn't.
She had HBO, which was a most coveted prize back in the 1980s. I would have had to wait until my 20s to see Dirty Dancing if not for grandma’s HBO. She was at once formal and inviting, using her good china to serve us liverwurst sandwiches on toasted rye with mustard (it’s good, you should try it).
She had a rotating Christmas tree that provided countless hours of little-girl wonderment.
She loved all things fancy and elegant, which is probably why I have her ornate gold mirror, her ridiculously gaudy but gorgeous lamps (complete with Grecian dancers and silk shades!) in my living room. Because a girl needs nice things.
She was my go-to grammar resource through the 1990s. I would call her from college to ask what word went where and she would know the answer. She'd even have me diagram the sentence to figure it out myself. She was a walking grammar book and it was her influence that made me the walking grammar book that I am. She even taught me shorthand, which I would use more if anyone else could decode it.
Perhaps the best thing about my grandma is that my sister and I never had to share her with anyone. She was all ours all the time, and I was lucky enough to have her for 40 years of my life. I will miss her for the rest of my days.