Night, Ill see you in the morning
It is morning silly
I know, see you in the morning
I miss the simple banter that would,
Cast a flame of beauty across my grandmothers face when she smiled
I miss her admonitions that I would,
Shrug off in mild annoyance
I even miss that disgusted look that would,
Tell me that my actions do affect others
There is a smell that I remember as being unique to her house
One would not think that a smell would be fondly remembered in the house of a smoker
But this smell had more depth
It was the smell of order, cleanliness, and right
It was dinner, and laundry, and family history
It was time, love, and happiness
It was all this and a million others that I couldn't begin to describe
I miss the dinners when my Grandmother asked when my friends would
Be dinning with us because it had been awhile and she wanted to see how they were doing
I miss the car rides that would,
Cause her to say my name sharply and ask me if I had my contacts in
I miss the days she required my help that would,
Make miss out on what ever my friends were doing
Have you ever heard the saying a place for everything and everything in its place?
Nowhere was that more true than in my Grandmothers house
The flashlight had to be on the island counter not the sink counter
The candy drawer was the first one down right under the flour and spice container
The tool drawer was the bottom one on that row
The candy dish was on the hutch next to the pen cup
The T.V. Guide was on the end table next to her chair
Granted she was of an age where death should at least be a possibility
But she was the last person I ever expected to die
When I reunited with a friend I hadn't seen in a while I would give them her number and address
Saying that she would always know how to get a hold of me
After a bout of sickness she would always go back down to the restaurant to help my Aunt
In winter she would have me walk her there so she could work
Some things you just never think are going to change and she was definitely one
More a force of nature than a mere person
Those people don’t die right?
Wrong
I miss my Grandma
