I never met my grandmother

She died 6 months before I was born, she may have known of my existence, but I'm not sure. She was Spanish - Paquita (Frances, or Fanny as she was known in Scotland).  She was Paquita to her children (including my Father, 5 of 6 children).  I knew of her as my grandmother when I was a child.  The parent of my Scottish father and the wife of my distraught grandfather who would die 6 months after my birth. A very vague existence to me - both died at 60 +/- 2 years.  I saw some pencil sketches of her from newspaper black and while images where she modeled for Ponds skin care cream. Years later I once saw a black and while portrait that my brother and I did not recognize. We were ridiculed and chastised by my uncle's Indian wife because we did not know who was in the portrait.  We were willing grandchildren, but our parents did not have photos and died young - how were we to know?

So years later, the thought process comes to play - what is closer to my heart? Who is my team? I'm talking World Cup! The US or England (it would have been Scotland, but they didn't qualify) were wiped out of the World Cup! The next, could be either Canada, Mexico (because they are neighboring countries), or Ireland (the Celtic link), Germany (the marriage link), or Spain - the blood link!  It became quite easy during the finals - Reino de España;  Grandma Paquita was there making me imagine what it would have been like to meet her!  The woman I had never met, but had sons that looked like the faces of the cheering fans - it was a melancholy decision, but it felt right.  Whatever it takes...for the first time in my life, the team I was cheering for actually won the World Cup! It was fun, it was great, it's nice to win. It was nice to see the familiar happy faces and join in with the celebrations.

Don't get me wrong, it was a good feeling, but a Scotland win would have been better - I hope I experience that before I die - it's a "I hope so" in the bucket list!