In Memory

Vira Putnam was my great-grandmother. I miss her. A lot. Still. Even 6 years after she died. I miss the stories she would tell me as I sat next to her on the love seat in Vera's house right where we were touching and I held her hand. I miss the way she smiled. I miss the way she played with all the little kids and the way she played with me when I was little. I miss the way she made me feel included in everything even when no one else did. I miss going to her house which isn't ours anymore. I miss looking in the closet for things to play with and looking at the new quilts she had made since last time I was there. I miss her pickles. I miss setting the table with her special tablecloths. I miss sitting on her front porch and looking at the yard. I miss stump creek. I miss watching her embroider another butterfly. I miss reading with her the same story over and over again. I miss the tents she made me while she quilted above and the way she played big bad wolf with me. I miss the letters and phone calls. I miss seeing her.

It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have nightmares. I will dream that Grandma is still alive and that I forgot to go see her. Then I get to watch her die all over again. You would think that it is okay for someone to die when they get old and I know she is in a better place but I still miss my Grandma.