After about 3 years, it’s gotten easier to go through the days without her.
Yet, there is still not one day when she doesn’t float through my thoughts, even if only for a moment. Some days I think about how much time has passed and how fast 3 years went by. I think about the last time I played my violin for her and the last time I drew her a picture to hang on her fridge. I’d love to tell her I can make our oatmeal cookies all by myself and how, although everyone says they’re good, I still wish she could make them with me. I think about how long it’s been since we sat in the sun room watching the birds outside. How long it’s been since we ate sherbet on the back porch.
And if I could have just one more afternoon with her; I would have so much to tell her. I’d tell her about the festivals I’ve been to with Bami. And how we took a road trip to North Carolina and camped in the mountains. I’d tell her about all the books I’ve read and all the old bookstores I’ve been to. I’d tell her about all the new critters I’ve smuggled home. I’d ask her if she was keeping Poppop and Uncle Dicky in line. And I’d ask her if she sends me the butterflies I always see on sunny days and Bami the scissor-tailed flycatchers she finds in the sky.
I would tell her how much we all miss her. And I would do anything to play her one more song on my violin. To draw her one more picture. To dye one more Easter egg together. To hear her voice one more time. And most of all I would do anything to give her one last hug and tell her that I love her, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.
~My grandmother is an angel, who was carried gently away on dolphin wings, during a warm spring day.