My grandmother Delma died this morning between 3 and 4 AM. She’d been getting worse and worse over the past couple months, so this wasn’t really too much of a surprise. Ironically, Beth and I were planning to visit her on Easter weekend when we go to Redstone to visit my parents. I’m sad I didn’t get to see her one last time, but Mom said that she’s been somewhat incoherent the past week anyhow, so it’s probably for the best. I don’ t really know that much about her, really, but what I do know makes me think she was from a different world than the one I grew up in. She was born and raised in the deep south, got married and starting having children in the Great Depression at age 14, and never learned to drive a car. I remember she always used strange words that I’ve never heard anyone else use. Things like “old timey” (to mean things from the old days) and “you’uns” (her equivalent of “y’all” – the 2nd person plural form of address not widely recognized as proper English). She outlived her first son and first daughter. Back in the day, she was a great cook and could single handedly whip out Thanksgiving dinner for 15 people. Delma made the second best cherry pies on planet Earth. They would have been the first best, but she had fierce competition from my other grandmother, Grace, who passed away several years ago.