Hey there old friend,

I hope you and Cody are up there in heaven playing fetch or cuddling watching a movie. If you even watch movies up there — I'm not even sure.

I miss you. I miss you a lot. And my eyes are filling with tears faster than every time the rain falls when we're in the car (aka a torrential downpour).

I keep thinking of all the things you're missing because you're not here anymore. Me finishing my first year of college, my brother's high school graduation, my sister's undergraduate graduation, my sister's as well as my own graduate graduation for when we both receive our doctorates for physical therapy. All of us getting married. Maybe even seeing each of our children take their first steps.

But then I realize, you're watching everything happen. Because you're always with us. You never really left. When I won an award at formal the other night, I ran out to call mom because I knew you were right there with me. You were watching me stuff my face because I didn’t think I was getting the award. You were probably telling me to slow down, but gosh Nan I was so hungry that day. You’re watching out for us everywhere we go.

I’ve been hurting a lot lately, and I know you’re worried about me (although worry a little bit more about Mom and Aunt Sue please, I think they need some Nan-loving, too). That’s why you came to me in my dreams the other night.

I'm not much of a dreamer. For most of the night I'm usually out cold and around 8 a.m. I naturally wake up. I guess I get my early-bird beds from you.

But Saturday night you appeared in my dream. And in this dream, I was hysterically crying because you didn't feel like going to family lunch this Sunday.

So, I sprinted out of the trunk seat of Aunt Sue's car and cried in your arms saying you have to come and asking why you didn't want to.

I didn't see that in this dream, you could walk. You had one of your many canes that matched any outfit you would wear, but you walked. Without a walker and without Aunt Sue's help. I didn't realize you had a full head of curly white and blonde hair and blush and lipstick on. Not the flat, minimal hair you hadn't lost from treatments that we got used to seeing toward the end. I didn't realize you were about to reach for your knitting needles.

I just grabbed you, hugged you and cried because I didn't want to leave without you. I didn't want to lose you.

"I'm fine Jennifer, I'm fine. Go on without me because I am fine. Don't cry Jennifer.

"I promise, I am fine."

I know you're fine now, Nan. You're not suffering anymore. I just hate that we have to carry on without you. I just want to be selfish and wish you were still here.

But you're not hurting anymore. You're not struggling to breathe. You're not fighting to force yourself to eat or take medicine. You're in a better place.

I have no regrets. The 19 years I got to spend with you were filled with love, joy and life lessons. I rarely failed to show how much I love you, and those times I did, I made up for later on.

I hope, one day, I make you proud of me because I'm proud of the woman you are, the woman you taught me to be, and I'm proud to be your granddaughter.

Rest your eyes old friend. Thank you for visiting me. Please come back soon.