Life has gotten very life-y the past couple months and I wish you were here to see the whole thing. I was the last person you talked to on the eve of July 11th and after that day nothing was the same. I sent you a couple pictures of Mom and I at the beach and you said, "My pretty girls. Has it been good so far" and I replied, "Yes very hot though haha." The conversation followed with a kissy face from you and a "Love you" from me and "You too darling." The next morning the subject of conversation would no longer be of concern and that was hard to hear. My Mema that talks to everyone at the grocery store and never wants to stop laughing wouldn't even be able to tell me Happy Birthday or sign my many weekly cards with her beautiful cursive.

The following list is some of the things I miss, things I still do, and things I don't want to forget. This one's for you too darling:

• Making the world’s greatest spaghetti with Ragu sauce and mountains of Country Crock butter.
• Playing with my Barbie’s in the dirt under trees in the summer.
• Running on the farm and watering the garden.
• Jumping in Gaga's rickety old red truck and never failing to get dirty.
• Finding gold nuggets in the gravel in the driveway.
• Refilling the hummingbird feeders when they were empty.
• Swinging on the swing Gaga built by the garage.
• Finally being able to reach the garage door opener.
• Carrying 10 grocery bags on my arms at once so we wouldn’t have to go back downstairs.
• Having you tuck me in your bed with a rice bag at my feet.
• Driving around town and spending money without any concern.
• Learning that you only do unto others as you would to your own.
• Watching you dance to anything with a good beat.
• Dancing around with Santa in the kitchen.
• Moving the chairs and tables in your old house so I could dance on the hardwood floors.
• Going to chemo with you and talking about how lucky we are.
• Going with you in Gaga’s workshop to oversee his new projects.
• Never missing the opportunity to go to the nail salon (The owner came to both your funeral and visitation (only you)).
• Watching you make millions of rice bags for my friends and strangers all alike.
• Going to Flag Fork and The Glitz and treating ourselves.
• Always letting me get the lobster tail at Red Lobster.
• Sharing your love of all things little.
• Chasing Lucky, the stinky farm dog, around the farm and calling Gaga to come in for dinner.
• Giving me the best advice and prayer.
• Always having candy and ice cream that was not suggested, but advised.
• Sharing my taste in perfume and men.
• Always giving me extra pens (only the ones that write really smooth).
• Listening to me sing and always telling me that it was beautiful.
• Reading my poetry in that it reminded you of your grandmothers.
• Reminding me of the importance of class and southern charm.
• Not being afraid of any illness, but seeing it as an opportunity to be called home.
• Paying for everyone’s food- always.
• Our yearly trips out west and to see all the monuments and old historical homes.
• Walking slow with you up the stairs while you would use the chair lift.
• Having hay days in DrugMart while you would get your medicine and I would find little glass animals and cool snacks.
• Feeling so cool riding around in your shiny white Cadillac.
• Going to see the most popular movies at the movie theater.
• Your legendary UK cane that nobody would forget to compliment.
• Always feeding our pets human food, regardless of their usual diet.
• Being so brave after Gaga was gone.
• Hiding a lot of the pain you were feeling around us.
• Always telling me to, “Just wait until you’re my age…”
• Getting in trouble for being on your phone at church, but because you were bragging about your grandchildren to your friends.
• Making beaten biscuits with you and Mom using the family recipe and rolling machine.
• Teaching me the proper, and notably strenuous, way to mash potatoes.
• Looking out the kitchen window and having a crazy view of the farm.
• Always looking forward to the $1 or $5 in your cards, not to mention the cute pictures on the front of them.
• Showing me all the things from the Civil War you found on the farm with a metal detector.
• Dying laughing in every dressing room when we were together.
• Always writing checks and not caring that they were old fashioned.
• Always being at all my performances and functions when you were feeling okay.
• Loving me unconditionally.

Even though you're not exactly here now I feel like you're still teaching me things. I feel like you've told me that people are just temporary until they're permanent. I feel like you've told me that everyone has a unique taste and it's up to them if it is destined to be sour. I feel like you've told me that you've always known I was creative and that words run in my blood. I feel like you've told me that it's okay to be complex. I feel like you've told me that the right one will come whether or not they already have. I feel like you've told me that music is simply music and you can enjoy the same songs with someone else. I feel like you've told me that you miss me just as much as I miss you.

There's something to be said about someone who would pay for their own funeral months in advance. There's something to be said about someone who asked their preacher to pray for these two things for them; 1. To never stop laughing. 2. Having succeeded at showing your loved ones how to live for Christ, you wanted to show us how to die for him. That one I still can't wrap my finger around.

You were the most extraordinary person I've ever met and anyone who has ever met you I know would easily the say the same. Not a day goes by when I'm sure that I will be whole without you.

Until I come home...

Love,

Your Sugar Babe