Day Eleven: A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To

Grandma,

I don't even think that there are words to tell you how much I miss you. Some of my very best childhood memories revolved around spending time with you and your sisters. You really were the glue that held our family together, and we have not been the same since you're gone.

I remember so much. I remember strolling around Wal-Mart with you, getting to pick out a toy. I remember having a fashion show with Linda in your living room. I remember the pink room, and napping up there while we waited for Cynthia to come to town. I remember how you used to babysit for us at the house in Granger, how we sat in the evenings and watched movies--specifically, I remember laying on my tummy and watching The NeverEnding Story while you guys folded laundry (whites because there were socks). I remember that first time that we dyed my hair an irrational, unnatural color and how afraid Dad was that you were going to hate it. You'll never know how wonderful it was for me to hear you tell me that you loved it.

There have been so many times since you've been gone that I've wanted to talk to you, to get your advice. On more than a few occasions, I've just wanted a hug from you or to see your face. There have been so many occasions in my life that I've wished you could have been there for: my high school graduation, my wedding day, the day that I got inducted into Phi Theta Kappa, my second female lead role in my high school play, etc. I wish I could know if you'd have been proud of me, of the choices that I've made. I wish I knew if you'd have liked to person that I've become today, or if the person that I am would have been different, would have been better if you were still in my life.

Most of all, I just hope that you know how much I loved you, still love you. When you died, I was a snotty thirteen-year-old girl. No one could tell me anything--in many ways, I'm still the same, I guess. I was so busy trying to grow up as fast as I could and find my place in the world that, sometimes, family fell by the wayside. I've spent an awful lot of time worried about myself and not enough time at all worried about the people that I love--or, for that matter, whether they know and understand that they are the people that I love. I hope that it wasn't ever like that for you, that you knew that I love you. I hope you know that I appreciated the things that you did for us and the love that you gave us, and that I miss you all the time.

Love,

Your Teary Granddaughter