Hi friends. Having trouble sleeping tonight. Found out yesterday that my grandmother passed away and, well, yeah. It hurts.
I hesitate to get personal on a blog that has heretofore been dedicated to my professional life, but a few thoughts won't hurt. I know my grandma liked to brag about me, so now I get to brag about her!
My grandma, the indomitable Yolanda Cocozza, was such a Baller G. She was someone you'd swear would live forever. She seemed afraid of nothing. Never a shrinking violet, a truly unstoppable lady. She taught me to paint, about light and dark shading, about three-dimensions, how to make an S-curve with a paintbrush, she showed me short-hand and it made absolutely no sense, she cooked me egg noodles, pizza and doughboys, bought me thin-sliced American cheese, cranked up the radiator so it warmed my toes while we chatted and sat on swively high chairs, she collected People magazines, we reveled in its trashiness, she let me play incessantly in my grandfather's reclining chair, told me, over and over, not to touch the water in her birdbath, sent me cards, addressed them in her feminine, perfect handwriting, came to see me in my shows, lower, middle, high school, college, she chatted with me on the phone, got my sarcasm, knew when I was being a pill, she did crosswords, went to see crass movies like "Knocked Up," complained about them, but kept going anyway, she was a loving mom, wife, grandma, the whole shebang.
What a cool lady, right?
I miss you already, Grandma Yola, and if you were here I would hug you tight! And then we'd chat, about...anything, really: current events, my job, how you like my hair blonder, and love that my boyfriend is so tall, and I would laugh and tell you you were oh-so-feisty, and it would be the best.
Thanks for everything, Yol. I love you.