This time of year, I always think about my family. I get a little sad inside, and I wonder how things might have been different. How my kids might have more family. How I miss spending time with my parents and grandma.
When I was 15, my parents were killed. A drunk driver ran into their car. I've always prayed that they didn't see it coming. That they went quickly. And together. That my Mom and Dad didn't suffer. I don't know if that's how it happened. But that's what I've imagined. Maybe it was my 15 year old self, that needed to believe it.
For a long time, I slept with my parents' pillows. Taking in their scent. Remembering better times. Watching my daddy shave. And then, put on his cologne. Watching momma carefully comb her hair. Not a single hair, out of place. Remembering all the laughter that came out of our home. How my momma magically moved around our kitchen. Creating the most amazing meals.
Some of my favorite memories, are of our entire family sitting around our little living room together. My daddy reading to us, my momma playing with my hair, my little brother working on one of his model cars, and my little sister carefully painting her nails. I miss those times.
I miss talking with my parents. All of us sharing about our days. Praying over our meals. Showing our parents our report cards. The way daddy always rushed in, after work, to give our momma a big kiss. How we'd all rake up the leaves, to spend hours jumping in them. Building snowmen. And making snow angels. All of these things were taken from us, on that tragic day.
After that, my grandma took me. My sister went with my aunt. And my brother, he went to live with my uncle. Our family tried really hard to keep us together. We'd meet a few times a month, for dinner. And a night of fun board games. But it was tough.
Because I lived with my grandma, I got really close to her. I already was close to her. When I was little, I spent a lot of time with my grandma. I was the oldest. And I was just super close to her. But for those 3 years that I lived with my grandma, it was magical.
I learned so much from her. About keeping house, cooking, working hard, saving money. The important things. I was raised as a Christian. Grandma and I never missed a Sunday going to church. Never! We never had much. But grandma made everything special.
Every day was special in our house. Grandma would make me breakfast. And as I got ready for school, she'd make me lunch. I always got a note. And now that I think about it, I think my grandma probably wrote notes for my momma. Because my momma had always wrote us notes. And hide them everywhere! In our lunches, books, pockets, pillows.
Most of all, I miss all of our talks. My grandma always had the most wise things to say. She was so positive about everything. Thought only about the good in people. Made something positive, out of all the negative. That was my grandma.
Like I said, we didn't have much. But grandma always made sure, that I had everything I needed. When I graduated from high school, I figured, that I would probably stay in the same small town. Maybe get a job at the county. Live with my grandma.
But she had a different idea. She had saved as much money, as she could. And she sent me off to college. To do better. And be better. Shortly after my 1st semester in college, my grandma past away. I took it so hard. To have the 3 most important people, in my life, pass away, in less than 4 years. It was difficult.
More than any other time of year, I miss them the most now. We're right around their anniversaries. This is also the season for family. Now that my kids are getting bigger, I know that they yearn for their grandparents. It hurts deep in my heart and soul. I wish, that we could just have one day together.
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