Goodbyes Are Hardest When You Don’t Get To Say Them
15 May 2015
As I sit here writing this post, I am 4348 miles from where I should be right now. Today, around lunchtime, I found out that my grandmother Mimi passed away overnight. And I can’t say goodbye in person. So I will say goodbye here, in the best way I can.
I am writing this to say how much I loved her and how much I will miss her. We all will. And though I can’t be there to say goodbye properly, there is not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you.
You were one of the people I knew would always read my blog and comment on my travels, no matter how mundane the story was.
You were always proud of me, no matter how small the accomplishment.
When we would visit, you would have your homemade strawberry dip ready for me to devour. We would eat Arby’s sandwiches and curly fries at almost every visit. Everything was perfect.
Your desk was the headquarters for Katy’s Cafe. And your kitchen table was where Katy and I would serve our ‘customers’.
I inherited your stubbornness. And your resilience. Two incredibly valuable qualities.
Your home was always open to us and I’m grateful that I got to visit by myself on my drive up to Davidson last year.
I just wish I got to see you and hug you at Thanksgiving instead of only FaceTiming you. And I’ll miss the dozens of Santa’s you bring out every Christmas that fill your living room.
I’m sad we won’t get any more pictures like this with you, but I’m happy that there are so many memories to look back on with fondness.
This post does not do justice to how great you were or just how much you mean to me. But it is something I had to put out there. You may be gone but you’ll never be forgotten.
And now for a send off with a picture of a perfect red rose I took at Keukenhof. The favourite flower we both share.