I lost my Grandmama this week. It was fairly expected, but knocks the wind out of ya just the same. I get to see my family in a short 24 hours, but it's been hard the last few days not being right there with everyone.

My Grandmama – with her teeny tiny frame, spindly arms, Southern drawl, and spitfire attitude, she was nearly impossible to miss. Miss Emma Laura was even famous among my peers. She was a vehement supporter of her gaggle of grandkids and ALL of their many activities. She was always there. And while she remained generally silent at my dance recitals and plays, it was easy to spot the little old lady cussing and shouting from the stands of every baseball game, wrestling match, and soccer game my brothers and cousins played. She was, of course, teaching the players how to complete the winning move and the coaches how to properly coach. They surely listened

.

Grandmama was a force all her own. She gave me many things – my short stature, my terrible bunions, and that knobby mole we both have at the exact same spot on our necks – but the give-'em-a-piece-of-your-mind, command-their-attention ability was not one of them. I can be the opposite to a fault, and in the wake of her passing, I'm realizing it's that spirit in her I'm missing in myself. She may have pissed off a few people along the way, but at least she was always true to herself. And never, for one second, did any of us question her love and devotion for her grandkids. She loved us fiercely.

Grandmama was not the type to tie on an apron and teach us to bake (although she could make damn fine cheese grits), but she was

one tough cookie. And these lemon curd filled butter cookie sandwiches are sweet and tart, just the way she'd want me to be.