I’ve never even been to my grandmother’s. It’s sort of like, maybe I’m a little bit in denial still, even though it’s been almost 5 years. If I go, and see the marker, it will make it all real and I’ll totally lose it.
She is everywhere here. And I wish like hell that she was really here.
The other day, I had the fleeting thought to pick up the phone and call her. I haven’t had one of those moments in a long, long time.
Will I ever get over this?
Being home. It’s wonderful. And there’s there teeny weeny little part that feels completely empty without her here too.