Pete and I are spending tonight organizing our trip to New York State for my grandfather's wedding.

I keep picturing my grandmother lying in her coffin with a wig on. After several years of fighting breast cancer I had gotten used to seeing her with a cute hat on or a scarf wrapped around her head. She pulled it off stylishly, even buying outfits that matched her head wear. She was beautiful and her spirit was calm and God centred through everything. It made me sad to see her wearing a wig in the coffin. It wasn't my grandmother, or the grandmother I wanted to remember, it was a body dressed up for show. It made me sad. It still makes me sad.

My grandfather's remarraige has come quickly, my grandmother only passed away last September. I know he's marrying for companionship, not for love or anything else. The women he's marrying is a good southern baptist who doesn't drink or dance, perfect for him. But it makes me sad. It makes me miss my grandmother.