Reblog of a story posted last Christmas
My grandma died December 16, 1964. I was devastated. She was always accepting of me and seemed not to notice my faults. She had mailed her Christmas gifts to us the morning of the evening of her death. The box arrived two or three days after her funeral. It was a macabre feeling, being anxious to find out what she’d sent, knowing she was in
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"Creative Insights for Designers & Digital Artists
Emmitt Owens
Let’s fix it
Finding Meaning in Modern Life
Real motherhood. Real fun. Real life with two wild boys.
Exploring biblical promises and their fulfillment in Israel and the Middle East.
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POETRY RANDOM THOUGHTS AND STUFF LIKE THAT...
Nutsrok 
I’d wager to say your brother hasn’t lived this down to this very day.
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He catches it every Christmas.
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Oh, wow. That must have been strange opening grandma’s gifts. <3 <3
I l.i.k.e. fruitcake and would hate to find it gone when I'd drooled over having some. :-D
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Mother was incensed.
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