Over the weekend there was a memorial service in Palm Springs for my grandmother, who died June 4th, after a slow, quiet battle with Alzheimer's. I was so moved that all of us who memorialized her, mentioned how classy she was, how beautiful she was, how talented and lucky she was to have been able to live her dream of becoming an entertainer. How because of that, she was an inspiration to her family. Here are some of the words I spoke of:

For as long as I can remember, I thought CeCe was the most beautiful grandmother in the world. She was so glamourous that none of us–her children, or her grandchildren–called her anything but CeCe. It was always CeCe.

I consider myself so fortunate that I was able to spend so much time with her as a kid. Indeed she was a second mother to me. I remember pulling apart her closet doors and feeling the shapes of all the sequins and the billowy chiffons in my small fingers. I remember falling over trying to walk in her lucite heels. I remember the rhinestones that glittered like diamonds and her fancy rings. I remember watching her at nightclubs and drinking many Shirley Temples and falling asleep under the tables. 

In my last conversation with her–she had already had her first leg accident but Alzheimer's had not yet taken hold of her. I was asking her whether she missed traveling as much as she had, and she turned to me and said, "You, know I've lived the best possible life. I've lived my dream, I've traveled the world. I've done it," she said. "I've done it." It told me she was at peace.

And so in looking back at her told performance footage, I was reminded of her words and how lucky she was to have found and lived her life's passion. As you watch, notice her joy, and I think you'll agree–she did it. I miss you Ce. How sweet it was to have been loved by you.