Can you imagine life without missing someone/something? That's been on my mind all morning. I woke up right beside my sister, and yes I've been camping out in her bed. 1. it's more comfy than my rock of a bed these days 2. she's not one of those wild sleepers that lets there legs and arms travel all over the place 3. I've missed her all year long and somehow it gets me closer to her.
But it's a funny thing to miss someone and I don't even think I've written exactly who or what I've been missing these days. It's a funny thing, because you have all this built up emotion inside of you that yearns and longs for someone to be near you, but most of the time you shouldn't be feeling that way, or you're embarrassed to miss someone because you there's a possibility that they aren't missing you back.
I miss my grandma. She could make a meal for 20 people with barely anything. I have some of her old books that she collected all throughout her childhood. I cannot tell you how inspiring she was just by the books she kept. She has an astronomy book that discusses Greek mythology in relation to the constellations, she has books on politics, she has books on dinosaurs, books on cooking. I mean this woman had dreams, and her ambitions were out of this world! I miss her buying all of her grandkids yo-yo's, play cars, marbles, more books, and candy. I don't even know if she could afford it, but she'd buy us little gifts as soon as she as able to. I miss being in the back seat of her old tank of a car and her doing abrupt breaking just to hear me giggle. I miss her asking me to dance when a really really old spanish song came on the radio while she was cooking in the kitchen. Keep in mind that I was about 5 at this time so I could be goofy and outgoing whenever I wanted to, but whenever someone zoned in on my sillyness I wouldn't dance on cue. I wish I had done it willingly. I still beat myself up about it, but I was only five so I suppose it's okay. I miss her putting me on a barstool and standing behind me and laughing hysterically as she grabbed my hands and orchestrated them to clap and do disco moves. My grandmother was an artist. Her life was her canvas and she was constantly adding to her painting. I miss her. This is going to sound crazy, but last year I saw her in my kitchen. It was family dinner time and I saw her standing in a reflection in my kitchen. Her spirit lives and I'm excited to catch her when I can. I miss the way she could light up my grandpa's face just by making him breakfast or dancing with him. I miss her green robe that she wore in the mornings to cook. I'd pretend to still be sleeping in the living room and everyone was still asleep and I'd see her cook and sing to old Elvis songs, or Aretha Franklin or Johnny Cash.
I miss my grandma so much and I absolutely cannot wait to see her again someday somewhere.
