"You're a beautiful, old, lady!" I yelled, with slightly more frustration than comfort, and a little too much emphasis on old. She really hates to have her picture taken, but like most Grandkids, I often get my way.
She'll never really know how beautiful she is. How much I love every single wrinkle on her perfect face, freckle on her slender arms and bruises on her over-worked hands. All the things she sees as imperfections that she would gladly trade away given the chance that couldn't possibly make her more perfect.
Nothing I could ever write, no amount of words however well thought out or heartfelt they might seem could ever really express how much I truly love and adore my Grandmother. I do hope, though, that she can see it through my photographs, because sometimes "I love you" just doesn't seem to be enough.
