i don't know,

whatever.

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It’s been fourteen days since my Grandma died and it still hasn’t set into my reality that she’s actually gone.

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At this very moment, there isn’t one single thing that I would change.

We’ve been here for three hours and it feels like home. All of the lights are dimmed and the stereo is up louder than it has been in a long, long time. Mom and Grandpa are sitting in the living room with nothing between them but the music that’s flowing from of his dusty old speakers. Mom’s happy because she grew up with nights like this and it’s brought her back. She isn’t stressed or angry with anyone. Grandpa isn’t talking, he’s just humming along to Elton John and Norah Jones. Grandma and I are sitting together downstairs, listening to the music and watching a baseball game. Everything is just as effortless as breathing.

Nobody is worried about how Grandma is doing. She’s having a good day today and I’m happy for that. I wrote her a letter and left it on her dresser. I hope it makes her smile, because I know she needs that more than ever. If I could spend every night here, sitting on the floor by her chair and laughing at Grandpa while he sings as loud as his worn out vocals will let him, I would. It reminds me of being little, back when Grandma was fine and there wasn’t anything more stressful than one of us spilling a little wine on the carpet. Back when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.