Dear Grandma Jean,
Has it really only been two weeks since you passed? I miss you so much. The first week I could barely breathe. I spent most of my time in mourning, crying and remembering your beautiful face, sweet words and even how you answered the phone. I still hear your voice sometimes as the phone rings and I wait for it to connect (no matter who it is I'm calling, I can remember exactly how you always answered). You were always soft spoken. I don't think I can remember a single time I ever heard you really raise your voice, at anyone.
Part of me selfishly wishes that you and Granddaddy never had to sell your home so you could move into the retirement center. I wish I could walk those halls once more, smell the scent of your nutrogena soap, feel the slight breeze of the air conditioning and enjoy the views from your always spotless home. I wish that I could see you in your blue A-line skirt and Granddaddy's white and blue striped shirts he had made especially for you. I wish I could hold your hand as you sang me to sleep when I had a bad dream. And even though I no longer share the same beliefs you were so passionate about, I miss hearing your pray. I miss the way your voice took on a different kind of tone, one full of thankfulness and passion and hope. I miss the way you always had the answers and didn't seem to judge me when I claimed they weren't enough for me any longer. I miss how much you supported me, no matter what.
You love I will carry with me always, your memories I will never forget. I am proud to carry your name and be your granddaughter. I miss you so much it hurts, and I love you even more.
Lots of Love,
~Autumn Jean
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