grandma’s things


Today would have been my Grandma’s 86th birthday.  Tomorrow is my 26th birthday.  We always shared our birthdays; it was like a special little bond between us–though we had many.

I don’t think there’s been a day in the almost 2 years since she’s been gone that I haven’t had a fleeting thought about her or missed her.  We all have amazingly important people in our lives, and she was mine.  She was the one person who always made me feel special, the one person who never asked more than I could give.  I think the mention of her will always cause me to tear up–I will always miss her immeasurably.

But, I think this month has been especially hard not having her here.  So much has happened, so many big, important things that I always dreamed she’d be here for.  Just the mention of her at the wedding sent me running for the bathroom to hide the crying.  When she first got sick and then passed away, I was afraid I would forget or the pain would fade away.  But, it hasn’t.  It’s still here every day and can’t help wishing she could be here.  I suppose it will always be that way.  And I would rather feel that pain and cry those tears, than lose and forget everything she was to me.

I’ll always look at the sun setting, and think of sitting next to her on the couch, looking out her window, commenting on the colors of the sky.

Sometimes I wish I’d written everything important down. Every encouraging word, every moment of pure joy, every kiss, every hope and dream. All those little things are so easy to forget, and if only I had taken a few seconds to cast those memories into real words so they wouldn’t slip through the holes of memory.

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I don’t remember when my Grandma gave me this bracelet. Perhaps for Christmas or my birthday or just because. She was excellent at just pure giving. I remember she said she loved turquoise and that is why she got it when she was younger, but I cannot remember the story she would have told when she gave it to me. I think it is beautiful, but like so many things, I cherish it because it was once hers.

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My grandma hated cats, so I have no idea why she had this.  But, she did–it was in her bedroom I believe, with her paperweight collection.  Last summer my Mom came home with a box full of Grandma’s knickknacks.   Me and my sisters each got a few things.  No one wanted poor little blue kitty, so I took him home.

I keep him on the top of the stove.

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