The last Christmas I had with my grandma before she couldn't remember who I was.
The last time I saw her.
The last time I sang our favorite song to her.
The last time we cooked together.
And the first time I saw her name in stone.
It took me 3 years to finally go back.
Then on her birthday every year, I muster up the courage to go to her grave just to talk.
--when I was 16, I told her how much I miss her.
--when I was 17, told her I was struggling with my life.
--when I was 18, I told her how I just felt lost without her.
--when I was 19, I told her how I just hit rock bottom.
--when I was 20, I told her how my soul mate found me. How he helped me save myself.
--when I was 21, I told her I was married and how her wedding band is mine too.
How being a stepmom is hard and there is nothing like it in my life to prepare me for it.
--when I was 22, I told her how I have grieved and wept for a child of my own with Jay by my side.
Now I'm 23.
And this year, 2013, will be a such a good year.
I'll tell her how my baby is due in June. 4 days after my birthday.
How if it's a girl, it'll be named after her.
How I hope she has her brown eyes.
And a heart like hers.
I miss her.
But I feel like in a small way, I'm getting a piece of her back.