I’m pretty proud of the bottom-right panel. I’m not a fantastic artist, and I lose patience sometimes, but here and there it’s important to like our work. 🙂 I just see all my mistakes and how things are skewed and how shitty an artist I am, so I’m glad when I like one of my pieces.
Life’s funny, isn’t it?
Our friends just got pregnant (Congratulations!!!), and my grandma, we think, is in her last days. It’s strange that I got both announcements within minutes of each other. Makes ye think.
I was never very close to my grandmothers on either side. One lived entirely on a different continent and I only got to meet her once as an adult before she passed away. The one on my father’s side lived not too far away and while I saw her a few times a month while I was living at home, we were never close.
She is a holocaust survivor and a fighter. While I always always will respect her strength, it also made her pretty NUTS and a hard person to love. I am told I am similar to her in my stubbornness and personal strength, and I will always be proud of that fact.
While other grandmas baked cookies and knitted socks for their grandchildren, this grandma would take a broom to beat my cat for being black. O_O And her way of saying goodbye to be would be to smack me on the back of my head and call me an idiot.
I don’t know if she ever really loved me, or if that should matter to me, but I guess it does.
I guess all I can do is wonder what she would have been like had her entire family not been killed. Maybe should have been a sweet woman. Maybe we would have gotten along.
In the end the memory of her that will and should always make me respect her most of all is the one where she said she’ll pay for my studies in Canada. Without her I would have stayed someplace I was incredibly unhappy in, and not found the wondrous life I am leading now.
Thanks, grandma Ruth.