Tea with Grandma Marilyn

I stop in, unannounced, she pours me a cup of tea. Offers sugar, I decline. My favorite way to drink my tea is with my grandma. She mixes a strong amount of advice in my tea. I also get doses of it when I pause for sips. Not the abrupt and unsolicited kind of advice. The kind that I didn't think I asked for, but I actually did, and she reassures my decisions. She tells me stories of dirty aprons and cookie recipes. We discuss topics like forensic entomologists and the yarn harlot. My grandma who loves me close, yet still treats me as her equal. She tells me of the places she has traveled and suggests little boutiques I would love. She watches the Tigers. She does magic in the garden. Growing, growing, growing.  My grandma knits me things every year for Christmas. The yarn she picks out is specific to my style. That's what my grandma does, she watches. She notices. She teaches.
She has taught me how to be a strong and independent woman. She has encouraged me to learn beyond the classroom. She has inspired me to be who I am. My grandma always paused to notice the fine details in my clothing, the stitching, the fabric, the way I wear my scarves. She never misses an opportunity to tell me I look nice. Or to be honest and tell me that, no, I do not love your hair like that.
Her jokes, when she can get the punchline right, are funny. So funny. Maybe because I learned my sense of humor from her, or maybe because they are so bad they are funny, I'm not sure, and I'm not sure I care. My grandma, who is not shy. Who bakes cookies, with chocolate chips and some mysterious ingredient that is something like love. She has given me the recipe, and I have tried to make them over and over again, but mine never taste the same. They taste like they want to be just like Grandma's, but aren't quite there yet. That's kind of how I feel. Like I want to be just like this woman, but I haven't learned enough yet.
She laughs at my jokes and she listens, really listens. She remembers. My grandma is someone so special in my life. She is so intelligent, strong, hardworking, she is things that words fail to describe. If I can love half as much as she does, read half as much as she does, and be half the woman she is, I think I'll do ok. I'm so lucky to have a grandma who is also one of my best friends. There aren't enough hugs and love to give to her, but that's ok. I think she gets it. I think she gets me.