On December 26, 2015, I lost my grandmother. A woman who very much filled some of the void that my absent father left. She has always been there, my whole life, with a warm hug, a
birthday card, iced cookies on Easter (she always a kept a few extra just for me) a ride to school or to share a Cardinals game together.
I spent the last six weeks of her life with her day in and day out, at the nursing home, watching her slowly pass on to the other side. I had the privilege to feed her, to pray with her, to tuck her into bed, to love her back in the way she had loved me all 34 years of my life.
The time spent with her is something I will always treasure. I take solace in knowing that when she left this planet, she knew how much she meant to me, how much I loved her and who she was for me.
It's been two months since we laid her to rest.
This is the first time I've lost someone close to me and I HATE that it won't be the last.