Mimi

Two weeks ago, I woke to a phone call from my daddy at 5:24 am.  I knew exactly what he was going to tell me.  I don't know how exactly, but I knew.  Mimi's passing came 8 days after we buried daddy's wife, Malisa.  And one month after my mom received the news that her breast cancer had returned.

Her name was Daisy Ann Brame Stewart.  She hated the name Daisy; in fact, she tried to change it when she was 18 but her mother successfully talked her out of it.  She always regretted that.  I called her Mimi and so did everyone I ever introduced her to.

Here's a few of my favorite stories:

Mimi was the only grandmother who smiled at our wedding.  I'm pretty sure her smile was bigger than mine that day!  I remember right before Henderson and I got married, she wanted to sit down and have a chat with me.  She said that I needed to make sure and do Henderson's laundry, cook and serve his meals, and clean up after him.  But my favorite part of that conversation was when she told me to not forget to change the toilet paper roll...  The last thing she said to Henderson a week before she died was "Take care of my Bailey."

She was not shy or afraid to let anyone know what she was thinking.  At Malisa's funeral, she asked the funeral home if they had any bottled waters, and they told her no.  She told their staff, "You need to go across the street and get us some waters!"  At her funeral they most definitely had bottled waters for us, ha!

Her personality was so much bigger than she was (at only 4'11" that didn't take much).  She called everyone "darling".  In December, she answered telemarketers calls with "Merry Christmas!"  And she constantly gave compliments to people; she even would compliment fast food workers on their uniform!

Mimi could not follow directions at all.  When I was a kid, she picked us up from nature camp in Starkville and she wanted to head to West Point (15 miles away) to a little fabric store.  We ended up in Alabama...

I loved to shop with her.  Even if I liked something and it was "trendy", if she didn't like it she would tell everyone, even the employees!

She talked on the phone ALL THE TIME.  Most of her friends and she talked at least once a day, sometimes more.  Her little dog, Silver Bullet (with her accent it sounded more like Silllvaa), barked and wanted her attention the whole time she was on the phone but she didn't care.  She always said, "I'm not going to get off the telephone."  In fact when I was a kid, she left something on the stove and forgot about it while she was on the phone; her kitchen caught on fire.

She was an only child and she ALWAYS complained about that.  I remember a couple of years ago (at the time she was 73), I told her she was going to have to get over it because it didn't look like she would ever have a sibling!

I will never be able to put into words my grief for the loss of this amazing lady.  She was much more than a grandmother; she was my shopping partner, my best friend, and my true confidante.

I can't believe I will never receive a hug from her again, or here her say "Oh, Bailey" when I call with good news.  Department store and gift shopping will never be the same.  And the fact that my children will never meet her breaks my heart.

But I am so very fortunate to be a part of Mimi's legacy, and I will spend the rest of my days doing her proud.

Please keep me and my family in your prayers as we continue to grieve.