2002-03-22-6:13 a.m.

I used to go to Dimitri's Great-Grandma Thelma's house and she'd be sitting in the kitchen. She always sat in the kitchen because she was always "just getting ready to cook" or "just got done cooking". The whole house migrated to her, no matter what room you started in, you always finished in the kitchen sitting at the table with Thelma, talking about everything and nothing.

I used to go over there to take Christine's cousins to local shows at the Mercury Cafe, they were 16 and 14 at the time, they lived with their grandma. But anyway, I'd go over and the family felt good about me taking them, because I was like their adult chapperone, and Heather and Alica liked it because they thought I was cool to hang around with, ha, that or they just used me to get out of the house!

I'd end up in the kitchen and Thelma would be sitting at the table looking out the window, she'd start talking about "these kids nowadays", or "those darn Rockies", or work, or life or cooking or whatever. Alica and Heather would make their way in, anxious to get going, Thelma in the same breath as saying, "just getting ready to cook" would say, "you kids going to a punk rock show?".

It brings a smile to my face. She was always there with an open mind, an open heart, and open arms. She always did her best, never complained in the least. She taught me about patience and perserverence, about listening and understanding, she's everything a grandma is supposed to be.

That's why I love her so much. She's my grandma too. The only one I've ever got to know. I'm going to miss her, but I know she's somewhere up there, sitting at a table, looking out the window,smile on her face, just got done cooking.

Thelma I. Hamilton

April 30, 1916 - March 16, 2002