A Quote by Mitch Albom

Once heaven is done with grandma, we'd like her back, thanks. — © Mitch Albom
Once heaven is done with grandma, we'd like her back, thanks.
I have a black Grandma and white Grandma. My white Grandma lives in Fort Lauderdale, paints, and teaches bridge. She's wonderful. My black Grandma, equally wonderful, is my neighbor across the street, Bobbie, who's always insisted that I call her Grandma, and honestly, over the years she's become a real Grandma to me.
Grandma Mazur stood two feet back from my mother. "I gotta get me a pair if those," she said, eyeballing my shorts. "I've still got pretty good legs, you know." She raised her skirt and looked down at her knees. "What do you think? You think I'd look good in them biker things?" Grandma Mazur had knees like doorknobs.
Grandma, how old is she?" "Oh I don't know." Grandma said. "You'd have to cut off her head and count the rings in her neck.
Food brings back memories. I had a mom that wasn't a good cook, so I would eat my grandma's food. It was amazing because it brings back a time almost in Technicolor. I see her house, I see her stove; I think about what it felt like when I was sick, and it felt like love.
To this day, I remember vividly Missy Elliott, Ludacris, and my grandma riding in a golf cart to set. My grandma went back to Ohio and told her bowling friends, 'Guess what? I was riding to set with Missy and Ridiculous!'
I hate you for all the years I 'll have to live without you. How can a heart hurt this much and still go on beating? How can I feel this bad without dying from it? I 've bruised my knees with praying to have you back. None of my prayers have been answered. I tried to send them up to heaven but they 're trapped here on earth, like bobwhites beneath the snow. I try to sleep and it's like I 'm suffocating. Where have you gone? Once you said that if I wasn't with you, it wouldn't be heaven. I can't let go of you. Come back and haunt me. Come back.
My mom and grandma have made clothes their whole life. My grandma had her own factory.
A little Jewish Grandma is at the Florida coast with her little Jewish Grandson. The grandson is playing on the beach when a big wave comes and washes the kid out to sea. The lifeguards swim out, bring him back to shore, the paramedics work on him for a long time, pumping the water out, reviving him. They turn to the Jewish Grandma, and say, we saved your grandson. The little Jewish Grandma says, He had a hat!
During my grandma's funeral, I looked over once and saw my mom crying, and I felt so bad for her.
I have always thought that Heaven is a place for people who had had a good life, but that is not true. God is merciful and way too good to make it so. The Heaven is just a place for people who could not be really happy while living on Earth. I was once told that people who commit suicide are taken back on Earth to repeat life from the very beginning because if they did not like it once, it did not mean they would not like it the next time. But those who did not fit in on Earth at all, ended up here. Everyone comes to Heaven in their own way.
There once was a girl who found herself dead. She peered over the ledge of heaven and saw that back on earth her sister missed her too much, was way too sad, so she crossed some paths that would not have crossed, took some moments in her hand shook them up and spilled them like dice over the living world. It worked. The boy with the guitar collided with her sister. "There you go, Len," she whispered. "The rest is up to you.
I saw Marilyn Manson. He had, like, the platinum grills, and that's when I got my first ones. And honestly, I didn't even buy them. My grandma bought those. I paid her back right away, though.
I remember one day I came home and shouted to my grandmother, "Grandma, Sarah is pregnant!" Poor Sarah! For weeks before I had read how difficult it was for her to get pregnant. "Grandma! I have news for you!" "What did you learn?" "I have news, Grandma: Sarah is pregnant!" [Genesis 16 - 21].
How far would you go for someone you love ? Well, when my grandkids ask me how I pledged my love to their grandma, I'll say, I told her I would die for her, after I found out I didn't have an incurable disease. Then, I ran away while grandma was getting her ass kicked by a pregnant woman that grandpa slept with. You never know when you're making a memory.
Even her hair, she thought, running her fingers impatiently through the damp golden brown ringlets that curled romantically around her face. A Botticelli angel, a boy in college once called her, begging her to let it grow. Right! That was all she needed: wild curls cascading down her back like a doomed Shakespearian virgin, or a rock star.
Well, but you can eat Grandma's cookies. They're not bad for you. They were made by Grandma. Grandma wouldn't hurt you.
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