Dear Grandma

Dear Grandma,

I miss you, but I was a lot worse those first couple weeks in November. We were all a mess, and it was really tough on all of us.

I found some of your old journals. Well, Dad found them I guess, and they were lying around in his work room and I picked them up and started leafing through them. You had such beautiful handwriting; it was so unbelievably consistent. You wrote a lot about Niki and me, and it was clear how much you loved us. All the stuff I read was so purely positive, t  made me smile but also it made me want to cry. You are truly beautiful. I admire how you have maintained such a lovely, happy outlook on life.

You always told me how nice it was to hear my voice, and would in turn reply the same. I miss your voice now, though, and I can't just phone you up like you would when you missed me. I really want to hear the sound of your voice, Grandma. I want to hear your familiar words, the words that were always so full of love and comfort.

I hope you heard me sing In Remembrance. I was singing it just for you. I kept one of the cards with your picture on it, and the lyrics that Christine put on the inside. It's a beautiful poem, and even more beautiful in song. I like to think that you were listening when we sang it. I probably sang to you a lot as a kid, but not so much recently, and I wanted you to hear me.

I miss the cards in the mail I'd get from you as well as the phone calls. It's weird that they've stopped. I keep on getting cards from Ant and Christine; they never seem to stop. The one they sent us for Christmas is hilarious; their photo is inside a snow globe on the cover and it looks like their faces are being squished by the glass. You would have laughed so hard at it, believe me. We all got a kick out of it.

Remember how Aunt Liz was starting to do scrapbooking with Christine? She probably made you a card or two. Anyway, she's continuing that--I'm getting twice as many crafty cards as I used to. She's having her baby soon. It's sad that you won't get to meet her. Kaylee would have been so, so lucky. You would have spoiled her just like you spoiled your only two grandchildren for the last 17 years. We were so lucky to have you.

Mom's having me make painted jar-candle holders as Christmas gifts, and I would have made you one. I wish I had more time to show you my sketchbook and my latest art projects. It would have been nice to talk to you more about my life and college/university and show you the pictures I took of our Finland trip and draw you a henna tattoo.

Christmas is going to be different this year. We'll still do the same stuff: gather at our place early in the morning, open presents, eat crepes and make horrible, inappropriate jokes at the table. You won;t be there, though, and we're all aware of that, and I think we're all a little nervous.

I love you lots, and I miss you so much. You're in a better place now, and I know it was your choice and you were in a lot of pain and now you're not. I want you to know that you're in my heart, and my head, and some of my poems in Writers' Craft. We all miss you and we're doing better. I hope you're happy. wherever you are.

Love,

Erin

Fuck

Fuck this fuck everything fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

never ever EVER under ANY circumstances, scroll through facebook chat history. It will NEVER end well. You will end up overemotional and afterwards you have to keep reminding yourself that the other person did not scroll through wkth you, so they are in a completely different mondset that you, or than how they were during those facebook chats all that time ago.
Dont do it. Just dont.

Ugh

Fuck my life.
I am so frusterated, i want to take a pen and ink angry words all over my skin because i dont know how to get rid of the tension and stress and regret that is bubbling up in my chest.