A Slice of Life, my life

My sister woke me up one summer morning in the 1960's. She smelled fresh grilled pancakes. It was a request we'd given our maternal grandmother before we went to bed. So... past the table of geraniums, threw the hall, down the steep steps and into the kitchen we trotted.
And there she was, Grandma. She always wore a cotton "shift" with tiny pink or blue flowers. Also a matching apron with 1 pocket for her hanky. Of course our grandma never had a runny nose or a unplanned sneeze. A tall women of pergect posture and a fresh perm in her soft grey hair. We just loved going to Grandma's house. She spoiled us and never made us do chores. All that was expected was "showing" her our talents. Either a newly memorized piano piece or a completed pair of knit slippers.
Years later, shortly after she died, my Gandpa said she came to him one evening, floating at the end of the bed, all dressed in flowing white. I have missed her every day since she left. But I'm glad she's in heaven. And I have proof she's and angel, my Grandpa told me so.