My beloved 5 foot 2 inches (and still shrinking) grandmother sounds like Tony Soprano and Judge Judy got together (!) whose a survivor of breast cancer, a knee replacement, and heart surgery. She goes dancing TWICE a week (Wednesdays and Sundays) and gets her nails and hair did every Tuesday. She'll tell it how it is, opinions pouring out of her pores and still says she only shares 25% of what she's thinking... scary. She's the sharpest dresser in my family and if I don't finish her food I must not love her, "Yes grandma I'm still a Vegan. No grandma, I'm sorry I can't eat your chicken noodle soup, chopped liver, gefilte fish and brisket. I DO still love you".
Fantastic. She has never ending stories about her 4 older brothers (whom only 1 still lives in FL today), mother, father, cousin this and cousin that... it's hard to keep up. Her laugh echoes from the depths of her soul bellowing out that low-pitch-used-to-be-a-heavy-smoker voice of hers. I moved around so much as a kid from Japan to America to the house with the shag carpet to indian spices stained kitchens to sharing a room with my sister to having my own room (and phone line!) and all in all from my semi-conscious days always new I had a grandmother who LOVED me endlessly. This woman would light up at the sight of me, squeeze me so tight I couldn't breathe, and always had Wrigley's double mint gum and $5 for "bubble gum" in her pakkahbuhk (pocketbook/purse) for me. 
As her first grandchild of 4 I "made" her a grandma, she LOVES being a grandma and being called a grandma. She doesn't ever whisper, she yells... but that IS her talking voice. She has an endless supply of glasses: reading glasses, TV glasses, everyday glasses (but these are NOT for reading or the TV), going out (fancy?) glasses, to curse someone out in glasses (although she'll take them off to REALLY make her point), and foggy glasses because she's always crying from joy, frustration, happiness, sadness, her children, her struggles... just life. The embodiment of all the colorful emotions on the human spectrum with of course her one hand on her hip, i.e. serious NYC bred Bronx attitude.
Grandma's conversation about her conversation with the smoke detector:
"So my fire alarm... fire alarm? smoke alarm? same shit... so my fire alarm... do you have a fire alarm in your apaatment (apartment)? You know it's against the law not to have one?? You should have a fire alarm in your apaatment (apartment)!! so my fire alarm, smoke detector whatever that piece of shit thing is keeps beeping and beeping and there's this little voice 'low battery low battery' for 2 days so I say to it 'Go fuck yourself!' but than had to ask my supa (super) Julio to come fix it so he did cause oh no I can't get up there I'm an old lady and so gave him 5 dahlas (dollars) cause he always helps me out... oh what is this movie? I haven't seen this..."
No one has ever been diagnosed but ADD and ADHD must run in my family... My cousin Adam's advice: "If you don't want to answer a question just don't say anything, they'll be onto the 3rd question already". She can talk to anyone anywhere, I swear my friendliness is embedded from her DNA. She keeps her apaatment (apartment) so clean I could eat off the floors in the bathroom (although she'll yell at me and I'll never hear the end of it).
She's the top to my pyramid ♥
RY
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