Sheila Rosemary

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Sheila Rosemary,

You’re the most exquisite woman I have ever met. Your fingers are magical as you create anything that they touch. Your feet have led you weaving through the world going on the kind of travels I dream of doing. Your lips offer endless and affectionate kisses and drip with stories that will fill any listener’s soul. Your patch-of-white-birthmark is a mere metaphor of the  light inside of you. Every inch of your body reflects the tender spirit within, and you beam sunlight throughout our entire family tree. You’re a sundress in summer, an umbrella in a storm, you’re every wave rapturously returning to the ocean floor.

Beautiful Sheila you are my grandmother, and I couldn’t be more proud of that. I hope I never skip an opportunity to laugh, miss a spectacle to see, pass a cheap flight, or forget a dear friend, reason being — I have inherited your intrepid soul. Moreover, I am compassionate for the vanquished, amorous for adventure, and fluent in giggles because I am your granddaughter. Grandma, you are entitled to the sweetest and richest days for the remainder of your life. I beseech the universe that there are long tropical days, cackling afternoons, glorious sights that bring you to tears, and delightful chats over treats ahead because you are well deserving. Life is full of too much scorn and fear and I have always seen you as courageous enough to believe in good, despite darkness, and relish in it.  Therefore it would be my greatest heartache to see your latter days whither away by the prickly villains and the trepidation that only come along to corrupt our virtue.

I can speak for all of your children, children-in laws, and grandchildren when I say that we are all eternal carriers of your spirit. Your essence bleeds into our skin and satiates our being. We are Sheila Rosemary whenever we whip up a cake, create a sensational recipe out of nothing, sew up a rip on our clothing, give generously, catch a last minute flight to a brand new place, take a stroll in the park, or swap uproarious stories with an old friend. You are a dream and an extravaganza, and we couldn’t be more proud to have such a fierce relic as our matriarch.

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