My memories of you come and go like bits and pieces of a streaming film strip. I have images of you running through my mind, of your soft brown hair, your perky pink-lipped smile, and your warm and loving brown eyes, and I wish so desperately that I could talk to you again. I would tell you that life is pretty good and I’m happy.  I know you would be so proud of me.  You always were so proud of me.

Sometimes I wonder what it’s like up there, and if you’re feeling lonely or sad, but I know you’re not. I know you’re looking down on me and cheering for me during my final year playing lacrosse, just like you used to do at my Sunday afternoon soccer games at the Middle Road fields growing up.  You always knew how to cheer me up.  I wish that I could curl up into your arms and hear you say “Everything is going to be okay, Sweet Angel”.  I want to hear you say that boys are stupid and aren’t worth crying over.  I wish I could tell you that I got accepted into college, and that I’m ready for the challenge of being on my own.   I miss snuggling with you on your pink striped couch and watching movies all day while my parents were out.  I miss doing arts and crafts with you in your back room.  I wish I could draw and paint like you.  I used to love it when you did my hair and makeup for fun because I thought it made me look like you.  I miss your homemade chicken salad sandwiches, and the way you used to wrap them up in Saran wrap and bring them to the pool for all of the cousins to eat after playing sharks and minnows.  I found the recipe at your house, but when my mom makes it, it isn’t the same. Don’t tell her that. Oh, and speaking of chicken, I want to apologize again for breaking that glass chicken you had on your kitchen table.  Let’s just say it had to go, but I never would have told you that. Hope you’re not mad.

It’s hard not having you around now, especially during the holidays.  I miss your warm chocolate chip cookies you would bring to Grandpa’s house on Christmas day. It’s not the same without you. I think about how brave you were, how you fought until you had no fight left in you.  If I could talk to you on more time, I would want you to know that you left your mark on me and on all the other people that were lucky enough to know you.  Don’t worry about us down here, okay? I’ll keep everything under control, the family way.  One day, I will be able to talk to you again.  I love you, Grammy.