She was the one who organized our annual family Christmas name draw and kept it going year after year, for several decades. The one who sent out the birthday cards - and later included homemade birthday chocolates - early so they would arrive on or before the actual day. The one who gave advice when asked, but held her tongue and let us figure it out on our own sometimes, too.
She was the one who started our family e-mails, and was always faithful to write every day unless she was on a trip or sick and in the hospital. And she was the one who prompted those of us who weren't as faithful to keep on writing because what we had to say was interesting and important.
She was the one who invited large groups of people to her house for Sabbath meals, who planned family game nights and pizza suppers, who got excited when all the relatives would be in town for a holiday or a family event, and made sure the occasion included a meal or two at her house.
She was the one who did so much to make everything flow smoothly, but the one who probably never got enough praise or recognition. She bound us all together with love tighter than any ropes.
And now we all feel unglued without her.
What do you do when the glue in your life suddenly disappears?
My Grandma's birthday was a week ago today. She would have been 86. Two days later marked the third month since she died. Some days it feels too real; others it doesn't seem real at all.
Her name was Esther Linda. I always found it so fascinating that her name was so similar to the word Easter, and I often told her that I thought her parents should have chosen the name Lily rather than Linda for her middle name. All I will be thinking about the whole day this Easter Sunday is Gram.