Even before my grandmother passed away, I found myself gravitating towards colors and items that I knew she would like. Several purple shirts caught my eye (its her favorite color) and owl mugs and cookie bags came home with me from the store with me,and I have purple roses from my uncle sitting in my kitchen. Even though she was still physically with us, for a while, mentally she was not really and it was (and still is) my way of keeping her close.
Last night as I decompressed from the day, I was flipping through the channels and came across the Westminster Dog Show. She loved this damn show and her favorite part was to comment on how so many of the people with the dogs looked like the dogs. She found it absurd that they would intentionally try to dress in a color to match the dog and often thought they looked like their dogs too. Personally I think she felt bad for the dogs and I think I do too.
So I watched it for a bit to see if any of them did such things. Overall, from what I saw they did not. (Although the woman in the sparkly suit and black flats? What’s that about?)
First, I am not a little, fluffy dog person (I was pissed that Ch Palacegarden Malachy, a Pekingese won) I much prefer the Boxer (above, photo from here) or the Dalmatian (photo from here ) to those little frufru dogs.
And maybe more importantly, my grandmother will be with me no matter where I am. Her spirit is free to roam as she sees fit and to join us in whatever it is that we do. As I sat last night in a messy ponytail, purple tshirt, yoga pants and glasses trying to wind down, I laughed at the frufru dogs and shook my head at the sparkly suit lady, knowing full well she would have too. She was sitting there with me, watching and laughing.
And that made me smile.