My grandmother passed away this week. It was so sudden. I got the call at 3pm on Monday that she was in the hospital and we lost her in the early morning hours. We had her wake yesterday and her funeral today. This week has been frantic and horrible and stressful and yet full of memories and tons of family whom we rarely if ever see. Death has a weird way of bringing people together.  Anyway, my grandma—Catherine Bentley Elmendorf—was 75 years old. She died young, by today’s standards. She grew up in Hell’s Kitchen. For really real, Hell’s Kitchen—in the ’30s and ’40s. She would tell me stories of growing up there all the time. She knew many kids who were part of the Irish gang the Westies. One of her favorite tales was how the neighborhood would go to church on a Sunday, and as soon as mass was over, the altar boys—members of the Westies—would “go off and whack somebody.” I remember, another time, we were driving in Manhattan, going west on one of the upper ’40s blocks. We were stopped at a light and she got all excited. She noticed a hotel or a hospital (I can’t fully remember at the moment) on the corner and she said how when she was younger there would always be a hooker right outside. She was almost sad to see that there was no hooker there any more. Grandma was a badass biker chick back in the day. So badass, in fact, that she lost one of her pinkie toes in the spinning wheel of a motorcycle. My grandpa was also one righteous dude in his day. She used to work in a factory making poodle skirts. She had 5 kids and, at least, 13 grandkids.  In the ’80s, she worked in real estate in Manhattan. Some of people she rented apartments to were (at the time) WWF wrestlers such as Hulk Hogan and the Junkyard Dog. Being a big wrestling fan, she got me lots of autographed 8x10s. She has an awesome collection of elephant statues, figurines and knick-knacks. She loved the Beatles and Pink Floyd. If I close my eyes, I can see her dancing in her living room after putting on the Beatles. The last time I saw her—just a few weeks ago—my wife and I went to her house a few days after Christmas. One of my uncles got her a fancy new TV and set it all up for her. She was so excited. I’m writing this because I just need to get it out and she was an awesome lady who we love and will miss. I hope she’s hanging out with my grandpa and they’re dancing up a storm.

My grandmother passed away this week. It was so sudden. I got the call at 3pm on Monday that she was in the hospital and we lost her in the early morning hours. We had her wake yesterday and her funeral today. This week has been frantic and horrible and stressful and yet full of memories and tons of family whom we rarely if ever see. Death has a weird way of bringing people together. 

Anyway, my grandma—Catherine Bentley Elmendorf—was 75 years old. She died young, by today’s standards. She grew up in Hell’s Kitchen. For really real, Hell’s Kitchen—in the ’30s and ’40s. She would tell me stories of growing up there all the time. She knew many kids who were part of the Irish gang the Westies. One of her favorite tales was how the neighborhood would go to church on a Sunday, and as soon as mass was over, the altar boys—members of the Westies—would “go off and whack somebody.” I remember, another time, we were driving in Manhattan, going west on one of the upper ’40s blocks. We were stopped at a light and she got all excited. She noticed a hotel or a hospital (I can’t fully remember at the moment) on the corner and she said how when she was younger there would always be a hooker right outside. She was almost sad to see that there was no hooker there any more.

Grandma was a badass biker chick back in the day. So badass, in fact, that she lost one of her pinkie toes in the spinning wheel of a motorcycle. My grandpa was also one righteous dude in his day.

She used to work in a factory making poodle skirts.

She had 5 kids and, at least, 13 grandkids. 

In the ’80s, she worked in real estate in Manhattan. Some of people she rented apartments to were (at the time) WWF wrestlers such as Hulk Hogan and the Junkyard Dog. Being a big wrestling fan, she got me lots of autographed 8x10s.

She has an awesome collection of elephant statues, figurines and knick-knacks.

She loved the Beatles and Pink Floyd. If I close my eyes, I can see her dancing in her living room after putting on the Beatles.

The last time I saw her—just a few weeks ago—my wife and I went to her house a few days after Christmas. One of my uncles got her a fancy new TV and set it all up for her. She was so excited.

I’m writing this because I just need to get it out and she was an awesome lady who we love and will miss. I hope she’s hanging out with my grandpa and they’re dancing up a storm.