My grandma was an artist. She loved to paint. Mostly flowers and young girls sitting in gardens. She loved seeing me draw when I was little, and she was so proud of me as I got older. She wanted so badly for me to go into an art field. When she was in the hospital, I drew a cartoon of myself on the little marker board that she was facing. She told me repeatedly how beautiful it was and how much she loved it. She always told me that I was so gifted, that I was better than she was, even though it mostly wasn't true. She was so proud of her granddaughter 'the artist'. I only hope that I can continue making her proud as she watches down on me.

edit: This is NOT a painting of her.