I cried the other night during a movie I never would have suspected to yank tears down my face. The characters had the same southern accent as some of my family and one of them sounded just like a younger version of my grandma exclaiming “Oh my stars!” on top of so many other adorable phrases my grandma used to say.
It’s been just over 4 years since she died. I haven’t cried about it in a long time. But I used to a lot, especially when driving. I was so so mad. My bright and happy grandma was more active and healthy than most of her younger relatives, and she unexpectedly died in a hospital she wasn’t even suppose to be in.
I’ve been missing her. I’m now a person that’s so different than the granddaughter who used to call her monthly and visit her every summer. I’m in that phase of my life where I really, really want to be with and listen to my elders. I want to see her face light up when I tell her all the things I’ve accomplished that I secretly told her I would. I want her cheery and fearless tidbits of wisdom.
My family sold her house this year, and I can’t shake the sadness about it. Maybe this is just another new layer of grief showing itself. It’s one of those weeks where I want to fly across the country to go sit in her empty home and walk in her over grown garden and FEEL her strong presence that lives on that land she’s loved for so long.
I miss her. so. much. But I heard her in that movie the other night. I watched the whole thing, even though the plot had me eye rolling. I just wanted to be with her in that little way that I could. ❤️