"Remember Monica, your dreams are yours." - Great Grandma.
Your memory is etched deep in my heart,
Your pipe, your cane
Your long dresses that made you appear to float across the wooden floor.
Your silver hair, piled carelessly on top of your head in a bun.
Your smile that made your whole essence shine, causing your eyes to sparkle like a million stars.
Your laughter when I would take your cane to use as a prop when I would entertain you with song and dance.
Your willingness to listen to even the silliest of stories
Your patience as I would blow out match after match, while you tried to light your pipe.
Your complicity in helping break and burn the switches Grandma would make me get for myself if I was naughty, so she couldn't spank me with it.
I am everything that I am today because of those words that you gave to me as a four year-old.
I am everything because of you.