Mammaw...you rock my socks off

I'm at my grandma's house today. This woman has one of the cutest Southern accents you've ever heard, and enough furniture to fill two apartments. She's obsessed with all the cutesy (sometimes creepy...giant stuffed CLOWN with a red CONE HAT...hello...FREAKY) souvenirs she's brought back from far away places. She bakes biscuits whenever there's company, and always finishes dinner with some kind of pie or cake (last night I ate the best brownie I've ever had...topped with homemade buttercream icing, carmel, and pecans...and I don't even LIKE carmel!!). She's extremely opinionated, even more stubborn, and starts every other sentence with "well you wanna know somethin?", however I've found that the strength that resides within her under that perfectly curled auburn hair inspires me every time I'm around it. She has a fighter spirit, and even though you can try to get her down you will fail miserably every time, because survivors are LIVERS and that's just the way it is. Her lungs have not grown wary, she will state her case and STATE IT LOUD if she does not agree. I find myself searching for her within me, because she is so WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR covered in sweetness....only the most dangerous would butter up their prey with marble cake before letting them know they will not be selling that Austrian clown for $5 now. She's super independent, and she'll let you know just how. She doesn't need air conditioning to continue, and what matters most to her is that her kids are happy, not that she has a lot of money (now dressers, that's a different story :) I love her. I strive to be more like her. And what scares me the most is that I will fall in my own doubts for myself without embracing the part of me she's in.