There are days that I look back on all that has happened in my life and if I weren't the one living it, I'd have a difficult time believing all of it happened to one person. Some of it very, very good and some of it very, very bad. I chose not to write here about the very, very bad because it's now just a part of my history and what has made me the person I am today.

One thing is certain; I wouldn't dream of trading my life with anyone.

August 28th marked the one-year anniversary of meeting my grandmother for the first time. I've been thinking a lot about this anniversary, and can scarcely believe that it was only one year ago. We talk so familiarly with each other now, you'd think I'd grown up knowing her.

I called her today, to wish her a happy anniversary and also simply to hear her sweet voice. I mentioned that she sounded tired and she said, "well, honey, it's all part of getting old" (she's 93) and then went on to tell me that one of her friends sent her a book about living to be 100. I told her that I hoped she lived to be at least 100 years old, as long as she feels good, because I'm not ready to give her up for a long time.

There are times that I feel jilted because it took so long for me to find my family. To be true to my belief system, I'd have to acknowledge that there was a reason for it. I can't imagine what that reason would be, but it's neither here nor there.

Over the past year, we've done a lot of catching up through letters and phone calls. I don't call her as often as I should, but on average we talk on the phone about twice a month and supplement that with letters.

Her letters are so precious to me, because I know how difficult it is for her to write after she broke her shoulder last year. She apologizes for her handwriting, but I assure her that the fact that it takes so much effort for her to write to me, makes me cherish her letters even more. I have a special folder, with a heart on it, where I keep every little thing she has sent me.

It was a year ago that I found out about my paternal Scottish heritage, and interestingly enough the clan crest plaque that I ordered several months ago arrived on 'our' anniversary. I also ordered one for the Scottish clan on my mother's side (och aye, I have a wee bit o' Scot in me) and they now hang one over the other in our sun room. Pretty cool, huh?


I have definitely found a new sense of 'me' since coming to know my father's family- my family. That tired old line of "you complete me" has a whole new meaning to me now, and as trite as it may sound- I really do feel complete.

I never thought I'd have the opportunity to get to know, and even better- love my grandmother. I never thought that at the age of 46, I'd be asking my grandmother the question I asked her today; "what is your favorite color?"

In case you're wondering; it's blue. Just like her eyes.