(I'll probably be excessively morbid here for awhile, I appologize in advance.)
My grandmother died in sept '98, shortly after I started at college, and shortly after I met Meg. They never met. It's really rather sad, I think they would have liked eachother a lot.
It took me more than 5 years to go visit her grave. Not for lack of thinking about her, but I think I was scared. I don't know why. Meg and I finally went early this spring, so they sort of met.
My grandmother loved primroses. Red, with little yellow bursts in the center of each tiny flower.
I always thought they were awful 70's.