Goodbye, Gram

My Grammie is gone.

The feeling is strange.

One minute I'm okay, distracted by funeral to-do's and everything else in life, and then it hits me again -- she's not coming back.  Not at all.  Not in the least.  From now on, she is a memory, not someone whose soft cheek I can kiss goodbye.

Never again will I hear her, "Well, by gully," or her singular answering machine message, "Okay, call me," or, "You'd better have something to eat," or, "Lilly!" or, "Well isn't he something?" (speaking of my boy).

Bobby most likely won't remember his "Dwam."

I take a little solace in the few photos I have evidencing their special relationship.

And I know that we will always have pieces of Gram in my grandmother and my mother...

and in me, too.

Our Gram -- our matriarch and everyone's favorite family member -- is a part of who we are.  She's in our genes, she's in our history, she's in our memories and in our hearts.

It's hard to imagine life without her, but then again we don't have to imagine.  It's hard because I never wanted this day to come, but I'm doing my best to be happy that Gram has finally been released from her weakening body and reunited with her love.

And now I really need to get some sleep.