Memories of my Grandma

This... day. Forever carved and etched in my pysche as a remembrance of things lost. My grandma. The smell of lily of the valley wafts through the air like the butterfly floating on its endless breath of air towards the flowers. Endless, beautiful rows of roses, red, pink, orange, yellow... rows and rows of glorious beauties. Beautiful to look at but harsh if you touch them in the wrong way. Perhaps that's like me. Blonde hair, blue eyes but saucy and fierce if you hurt me. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens... the melody lingers in my mind.. if pianos keys touched my her beautiful hands, groomed perfectly with that little white pencil under each tip nightly. A lady must look like a lady you know.. I hear her voice in my mind when I look in the mirror, I see her in my mind. The perfect perfection of a classically beautiful lady.. who endured.. Endured endless years of health issues, pain, frustration. I remember mom telling me once that when getting dialysis( the old way) even though she was in horrific pain, she thanked the nurse for being kind when inserted the needle. Fairly certain I do not have such grace in medical situations. The pitter patter of her feet, the smell of Murphy's soap and memories of cleaning hardwook floors on hands and knees, hours after hours of cleaning those endless wooden blinds.. and this is why I own no blinds. I remember being incredibly sick and her wrapping me in her lovingly sewn afghan, saltine crackers and sprite with some Rodgers and Hammerstein music on the television. Memories of her holding me when I cried because I was so ill and reminding me, it would be okay. She was my joy, she was my light.. she was much of what I am right now and who I have become.She was my grandma. Dark.... she was also feisty, sassy and sometimes said things that today would end up in the papers.. I remember once walking out of THanksgiving because I didn't like what she said. She came and found me and apologized for hurting my feelings and explained that things were different in her world and she didn't mean to hurt me. She was the one that told me when my mouth was out of control.. well maybe plus a few others. She was where some of my fire came from.. my enviable drive to work incessantly, give more and love more.. She loved deeply and everyone that knew her, felt her love. This day was her birthday and for her... I am grateful. Tonight I lay wrapped in her afghan, tears pouring down my face as I write this. Pain doesn't go away, sometimes it lurks in the quiet, dark, recesses of our minds but it always remains. Great loss endures. It endures in our hearts, our spirits and our souls yet most importantly... love usually springs forth. Missing my grandma tonight all all that she was and all that she left.