To the one I lost too soon,
It’s been six years and four months since the day that you died and I miss you every single day. I still remember the day my mom told me that you were brain dead and I was never going to be able to see you or talk to you again. You’d think after so many years I would have come to terms with losing you, but it hurts just the same as the day I heard the bad news.
I think about you every day and I think about what it would be like if you hadn’t passed away. We could be riding in your convertible and going shopping and getting our nails done like we did all the time when I was younger. Sometimes I have dreams that we’re hanging out together by your pool and you’re complaining about how terrible the service was at one of the local restaurants (we still joke about how you did that so often). I also always think back to the days that I spent the night at your house even though my house was just down the street, we’d sleep in, and then you’d ask me what I wanted you to “fix” me for breakfast despite the fact that it was sometime around noon.
If you took care of yourself properly, you’d probably still be here. You would have been there when I got accepted into the school of my dreams. You would have been there when I walked across the stage at graduation and you would have been there singing “Happy Birthday” at every birthday party and you would have been there taking pictures with me at every holiday. Instead you’re somewhere else, leaving me to wonder if heaven exists and if you’re happy where you are. You left me to wonder if you’re sorry that you ended up the way that you did and if you are with your brother, your sister in-law, and my dogs that you use to love so much.
It’s been really difficult without you and the family will never really be complete without you around, but I hope that you’re at least here in spirit like I think that you are. If I could have anything in the world, I’d want you back. I want you to be here when I graduate college. I want you to meet my boyfriend. I want you to be right up front being louder than you probably should be when I get married. I want you to be here when I have kids so you can kiss their cheeks and hug them tight like you did to me. I hope I’ll eventually be okay with the fact that none of that is possible and I want you to know that I still love you dearly. You’re missing out on so much of my life that I want you to be a part of, but I suppose I can try to focus on all of the wonderful memories that I have with you as long as I can see you again when my time here is up as well.
With endless love,
Your granddaughter
“She was one of the rare ones, so effortlessly herself, and the world loved her for it.”
To the greatest Nana that I could ever ask for- the one I lost too soon
September 24th, 1946-April 10th, 2010
