I’ve been meaning to write a post for several days now.  Because they ground me, even when I am busy and stressed and tired.  I have a mental list of about 74.5 different topics I’d like to discuss…many of them funny or ironic or engaging that I’m sure all of you would appreciate.  But it hit me today, as I spoke to my grandfather, that there’s really only one authentic thing I can post at this moment.

I miss my grandmother Betty.  I miss her quiet optimism and steadfastness in the face of every problem.  I miss her sense of humor.  I miss her passion for life.  And I miss being able to call her up and have a conversation about almost nothing – a conversation that nonetheless always made me feel better.  Made me feel loved.

It’s funny how grief hits you in waves, months or even years after the loss.

I miss her hugs.


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