I have always been an odd duck. I'm kinda kooky and that's after I've mellowed over 30 years.
When I was younger, my grandma and almost every other adult would rather have my other sisters stay with them. My mom would try to soften my hurt feelings, but I knew that I was too talkative, too straight-forward and too opinionated to appease most people.
While planning my Grams' funeral, I have felt even more insecure and inadequate. Thankfully, I shared these feelings with my brother. He spent a lot of time with Grams and she shared thoughts with him that she didn't share with others. He told me things that Grandma said to him about me. That we were alike; second daughters, "black sheep", out-spoken. But the most important thing that he shared was that my Grandma had expressed how much she loved me.
I had heard these words from her towards the end, but I didn't internalize them because I wrote them off to the thankfulness of an old woman who was just grateful for someone to help her to the bathroom. Now I hear from my brother that her words were sincere, and the agedness just took away her inhibitions to share those feelings.
But the best proof that I found was while looking at my pictures. It was right before me all the time. The picture of my Grandma from my last post was a picture taken by me. She is watching me take a picture of my daughter (she didn't know I had her in the picture too.) The look in her eyes is such love. And she's looking at me.