Hi, Grandma.
I'm not entirely sure why I've taken my time out on a Saturday to write you this little message. But it's days like these that I miss you most. I miss you taking up residence in my living room, telling me what to do and what not to do, giving me advice, talking to me about everything, even if I didn't want to. And when you got cancer, we ignored it. We carried on talking about everything, but missing that huge factor. I knew you weren't scared of dying, but I was scared for you, didn't you see it in my eyes, Grandma? I was scared. You were the only person that would talk to me like I was important. Like I was equal... grown up. My opinion counted.
We didn't even mention your cancer even when I came with you to the hospital every Friday evening. It was like a huge, unspeakable secret. But I thought of it, I thought of it all the time and I'm so sure that you did too.
Grandma, I remember the day I lost you. It was cold, but it was Summer. 24th July 2011. You were 81 years old. But I don't remember you aging a bit, to me you were just Grandma. My favourite member of the family.
And now, I'm sitting here, on a cold December night, wondering how you're doing. If you're thinking of me, if you're looking down on us. Are you proud? Are you disappointed? Every day I think of you.
I love you, Grandma.