TRIBUTE

Ten years ago today, I boarded a plane from JFK to SFO to attend the funeral of my grandmother, Flora King, who had passed away earlier that morning.

She's on my my mind everyday and always will be. Sometimes I can still hear her laughter and picture her rolling her eyes dismissively at something or someone, a trait I proudly inherited from her.

She wasn't like the other grandmother's I knew. She smoked (Pall Malls), drank (Screwdrivers), cursed (like a sailor), wore lipstick and polished her nails (with Revlon's Cherries in the Snow), and colored her hair (Reddish Brown). My grandma was also a vault. You could tell her anything and you knew once you confided in her, that was as far as it was going to go.

The last time I saw her was few months before she died and during that final goodbye, I got to do something that a lot of people say they wish they had the chance to do but didn't. As I held her hand, I got to tell her how proud of her I was and that I loved her. We were very close and I knew that she knew I loved her but, it was still nice to have had that moment with her.

Tonight, I'm going to light a candle, mix a Screwdriver and raise that glass in her honor.

Thanks for the laughs and the love, grandma. I miss you everyday.

Flora Cordero King

September 21, 1928 - July 8, 2000