Today, August 17, 2020, it is 80 years since my grandmother died at the tender age of 26 — an age I reached and passed decades ago.   Such a short life! 

My heart hurts for my mother, who was only a toddler and never got to know her mother, and my heart hurts for my grandfather who was only 25 when he lost his wife.  I wrote about her here in this blog.

In the photo below, Elizabeth is the second from the left amongst her high school friends, and, to my mind, the resemblance between her and my own mother is quite strong.

In the photo below, she and my grandfather at the service station in Tracy, California, that my grandfather managed.  It was probably taken in the late 1930s.

Finally, this photo is a copy of the one that resided on my mother’s dresser when I was growing up, and is the picture that immediately comes to mind whenever I think of my grandmother.

May you Rest in Peace, Elizabeth, and may we someday meet across the veil.