Because of her long and courageous fight against cancer, my grandmother, Lula Holt, died away today. Some of you may already be aware of this. At this moment, I get the impression that my heart has been broken beyond repair.
She was nice, kind, thoughtful, appropriate, courteous, compassionate, and she never missed a day of church, for those of you who knew her. She was also a member of the church.
Those of us who knew her very well can attest to the fact that she was not just obstinate, irritable, strident, and unyielding, but she was also loyal, committed, trustworthy, and reliable, and her love for you was unflinching regardless of the number of times you made her angry.
That woman was my rock. My admiration for her strength has never wavered. She was extremely resilient at the age of 88 (before cancer took control of her), and she had more vitality than I had during her whole life.
In addition to doing everything, she traveled everywhere. In order to live the life she desired, she did not allow anything to prevent her from doing so. When she was there, we would laugh over everything and everything, and then we would laugh at something that had absolutely nothing to do with things.
She brought me to every doctor’s visit and chemotherapy treatment that I had to attend while I was battling my own cancer eight years ago. In addition to ensuring that I never missed a treatment, she provided me with unflinching love and support until I was able to overcome it.
There are a lot of happy memories that I have of us together, but one of my favorites is the time when we sewed a butterfly quilt for my bedroom when I was a kid. When we were creating the quilt by hand, we would spend hours cutting, sewing, complaining, and laughing.
The magnificent butterfly quilt that I created with my grandma is still in my possession, despite the fact that it took us three weeks to complete it. For the rest of my life, I will miss you every single day, and I will always love you, grandmother.
