In the summers of my childhood every Saturday there were dandelions in the mung bean soup, cilantro growing in the cracks of the cement, cat litter mulching the garden beds, and berries growing in neat patches. Lola Betty taught me picking raspberries with a sun hat and an empty sour cream container wedged in a fanny pack. So I could always have both hands free. She was home made jam with liquid certo. She was Saturday lunches. She was blues clues until she became MTV. She was ice cream for dessert. Even after lunch. She was hand stitched quilts. She was cat sweaters with glitter,  lipstick and necklaces. She was the smell of spaghetti sauce and pork chops in the summer. She was a power walker. A philosopher. A gardener. She loved a good purse that could hold a small water bottle the size and shape of an apple juice box. She was self sufficiency and independence. She was a grandmother and parent. May she rest after a life lived.

-Love, Elisa (grand-daughter and co-cat lady conspirator)

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