Yesterday was my Granma's 97th birthday. You might ask "Is she your father's mother?". No. "Is she your mother's mother?" No. She is my grandmother. Not by birth, but rather by heart. While I did know my maternal grandmother, "Grum" for 2 short years, Granma is the only grandmother I have ever really know. She didn't need to open her home or heart to me. But she did. She loved me like her own. And she loved me in a way no one else ever has. I couldn't be with her on her birthday this year, but designed a blanket for her. It has pictures of her grandchildren and great grandchildren. I hope each time she uses it, she remembers just how loved she truly is.