I always remember her- every day. At times, it takes me by surprise- the enormity in which I ache for her love and attention, even still. It's pretty unfair, not knowing how much you love someone, how much they are a part of you, until they are gone. Then, there is no going back- it doesn't matter how often, or with how much force you scream into the universe to bring them back- their physical time with you is over.
My Grandma's early life was far from an ideal childhood. She thirsted for a "family"- and it was her dream to make one for herself. She met my Grandpa, married, and began her family.
However- it seems her true happiness began when she became a Grandma. It doesn't matter how you got there- through blood, through marriage. I became hers through marriage. And if there ever was a little girl welcomed with the most open arms, it was me. I never felt "through marriage". I was always hers. I have always been hers.
I've been aching for her especially hard lately. I was so angry yesterday- she was taken from me too soon. I have so much to tell her. She needs to be here, so that she can ask me too many questions about my pregnancy, about my boy. So that she can get mad at me for not calling her often enough. How do I tell someone that they meant the world to me?
I will remember her, every day. Forever.
But what about my boy? Will he know her? Will he know if her passion for her family- him included?
