Grandma Bos, The Mob Boss

The next woman I'm writing about is my Grandma Bos, the toughest woman I've ever known.  She died at 92, but only after a car accident.  Grandma was just too sturdy and resilient to go of old age.  She made it through the Great Depression, World War II, and raising three sons and a daughter.  Her husband died when my mom was a little girl, leaving her with the kids and a large farm.
Grandma Bos was the kind of woman who always told the truth, whether you were expecting (or wanting) it or not.  For example, about a year before the accident we were moving her out of the condo she had lived in since I was a little girl.  I was packing up some of her old dishes when she said to me, "You can keep those.  Consider them a wedding gift.  I want to be dead by then."  She thought things like that were funny!  We were playing with Barbies once and she asked me why Ken's pants closed in the back instead of the front.   As an elementary school girl, I was stumped.
Don't get me wrong, she wasn't a cranky old woman, she was just an honest one.
Grandma Bos was extremely talented when it came to quilt making.  My sisters, my mom, and I each have a Grandma Bos quilt on our beds.  It's one of those keepsakes we each protect with our lives.  Those questions about what you would grab in a house fire?  We would each grab our Grandma Bos quilts.
She was an extreme baseball fan, especially when it came to the Detroit Tigers.  In memory of her my family goes to a baseball game every year, where my older cousin Adam boomingly hollars for the Tigers each time.  It's a bit nerve-racking, considering none of us would be very useful in a fight.  Adam is tall and lanky, and the rest of us are girls.
From her I get my viscousness in board games.  There was no mercy when playing games against that woman.  She's smash you into the ground and then laugh in your face.  It didn't matter I was six with cute pigtails.  I remember once when I was little my mom found out that my grandma had been driving to play cards with other women late into the night.  The funny part was that her excuse for not going to church on Sunday mornings because she didn't like to drive.  I'm like this when it comes to certain board games.  Monopoly is one of those.  The mere mention of Monopoly and everyone will ignore me for the next two hours, sneers on their faces.  Sore losers, if you ask me.
Thinking about Grandma Bos in heaven makes me smile every time.  It's crazy thinking that she's back with the husband she lost so long ago and my Uncle Gary, who passed away when I was in middle school.  I'm sure she's busy making the best applesauce for them and quilting for Jesus.