If you were still here, you would be able to see the amazing family that cancer took you away from. Dysfunctional, yes, but you would love us anyway. Thanksgivings and Christmases would be alive with joy in your owl covered living room. Random family dinners would probably still exist because I know you couldn’t resist seeing all of your grandchildren.

If you were still here, you would be the heart of our family.

You would be the young and hip grandma that everyone wishes they had as their best friend. The one I could call when I get into a fight with mom. The one who comes with us to the bar for my twenty first. The one always making everyone laugh. You would be the grandma who made sure I was doing well in school and gave advice if I was not.

If you were still here, we wouldn’t have to miss you so much. Mom wouldn’t be cooking holiday dinners alone and Dad wouldn’t be smiling at a video of your voice. I wouldn’t have to hang on to that voice. I would remember it clearly because I would be able to hear it every day.

If you were still here, I wouldn’t get jealous of breast cancer survivor stories and I wouldn’t have lost my hope in any form of religion. Because to me, it’s not possible that any God would take you away. I would be able to go in your bathroom and put on your favorite lipstick because I admired and aspired to be a woman like you.

Grammy, you would be able to be there for us—for mom. The pain she feels from losing you wouldn’t exist because I know you’d be by her side all the time. You would most likely still try to mother her, but that is only because you cared. If you were still here, I know you’d be the first person she called like the rest of us.

If you were still here, there wouldn’t be something missing. This nagging feeling of knowing what could be. The rings on my fingers and the tattoo on my arm would not have to represent a memory, but rather support a life. There are so many things I could tell you. Oh how I know you’d love to see the things I accomplish.

Grammy, I know you’d be tough on me and I also know you’d fight by my side.

The words you last wrote to me are engraved in my mind. I could write them out over and over mimicking the handwriting on the paper. But, no amount of blue squiggly letters fills the hole that losing you created. We all feel it every day. We move through our lives imagining what it would be with you here. Twelve years later and the shock of not being able to swing by your house hasn’t disappeared. There are days where all I want is to share something with you—to see your smile.

I hold on to pictures of us because my child memory fails to remember every moment with you. I don’t understand why so many other Grammy’s are alive but you are not. All I have are pictures, a letter, and your rings. I would give those away if you could still be here. I would sacrifice it all for your presence in our lives.

My heart will never stop feeling the pain of missing you. I will never stop tracing over your words with my pointer finger. There is no amount of time that can pass to ease the feeling of seeing you lying there in your hospital bed. The hospital bed that sat directly in the middle of your living room and dining room. Those rooms were made for our memories of passing the mashed potatoes and opening gifts—not whispering goodbye.

You will never be able to read my stories or my articles. You won’t be in the stands at my college graduation. And you won’t be able to welcome my future children into the world with me. If you were still here, I wouldn’t take one moment with you for granted.

I do not get to share this life with you Grammy, but I promise you will never stop living. You will survive within my written words and you will survive in my image. Mom has just about become a mirror of the person you were so you will survive within her Within all of us, the essence of your soul remains and I am so very thankful you’ve given me your strength.

I do not get another chance to say hello and I do not get another chance to whisper my goodbye. But I have been given this life where I have the ability to keep you alive in my heart.