I remember this day… this day four years ago, like it was yesterday.
I remember being stuck at work in meeting after meeting.
I remember finally getting a break and checking my phone for messages.
I remember hearing a voicemail from my dad, not liking what I heard in his voice.
I remember calling him back and hearing him tell me the inevitable: my grandmother had died… and my whole world shifted.
I remember trying to keep my composure at work, but failing miserably.
I remember telling my co-worker, I had to leave because of an emergency. I gripped the steering wheel the entire way home, vaguely aware that the brake pedal had been applied, and I was now sitting in my garage.
I remember my husband, then fiancée, holding me as my body was racked with uncontrollable sobbing.
I remember the funeral, but not the days in between. It’s all a blur, still.
I remember how many people came to say good-bye and I was moved to tears again, by how many lives you touched Grandma, with your grace and quiet humility.
I remember trying to be strong for my dad.
I remember coming back home after the funeral and collapsing on the kitchen floor, because the tears would not subside.
They say time heals all wounds, but that is a lie. My wounds are still open, raw, and full of salt.
I remember all the time.
It’s been four years and all it takes is hearing a certain word or seeing your picture and I sob incoherently for minutes on end.
It still hurts and I don’t forget.
I remember you being an instrumental part of my childhood, the mother I didn’t have, the female figure to aspire to.
I remember you being one with your faith and instilling that faith into me.
I hate the fact that you never got to hold your great-granddaughter, but I know you see her. And see that her smile, is your smile.
I don’t forget, and on days like today and your birthday, the awareness that you are really gone, is even more heightened.
I miss you Grandma and I cry as I write this. You live on through my father, through me, and through my daughter.
I will always remember…