Last night I was all kinds of “off” and just couldn’t figure out why. Was snippy, didn’t want to get off the couch. Wanted to lay around and pretend like that was all I ever did.

This morning I figured out why.

I was listening to my Nickelback CD, and this song came on. I listened to this song alot back in March. A. Lot. I would blast it in my car and belt it out. It made me feel alive, made me want to be alive. The phrase “Amen I, I’m Alive”- I would sing it over and over. It felt like everyone was dying, and I needed a way to stay connected to life.

The song came on in the car, and I realized.

It has been six months since you have been- not alive. The other day Khalil asked me to go grocery shopping with him. He rarely does this, but he did this time. I went, begrudgingly (I’ve never liked grocery shopping in general). But I got to the store and it hit me like a ton of bricks. This is what I used to do with you every other weekend. I still know your habits and could probably get the main things off your list. Veggies from the salad bar. Tomatoes on the vine. Milk in the purple jug. Aveeno. There was a reassurance to getting certain things every week, but also trying to find the new things that you saw commercials for that our grocery store never carried. The spray salad dressing. The pain stuff you wipe on your forehead.

You had fallen, and had black eyes. You didn’t really make a big deal out of it, but I was sad. These were some of the last pictures we took with all of you, and look at those black eyes.

Rory was still little here, and was smelling your hair. You were laughing hysterically, which was cracking us up. It was so funny, but especially because you just loved cats. You always asked about Rory, and always loved on her when you came. You indulged me my little stories about her and laughed at all the parts where other people just look at me like I’m crazy because I’m talking about my cat like she’s a person. How could I not? It’s in my blood.

You were really happy at your 80th. So surprised, and happy. I’m glad we did that for you. It was also your last birthday.

This is you with my other Grandma, dad’s mom. You guys were really cute together, sitting there holding hands.

Look at that. Four generations. That’s a nice picture. We’re lucky to have you.

That is the smile I remember best.

I love you and still miss you.