She would have been 97 years yesterday. To some that's a lifetime or two, to me it is not enough. Oh, the conversations we had together. She made me feel important. She made everyone she talked with feel important. She closed her eyes when she laughed and told jokes. She loved animals and was kind even when it was not easy. On the day of her funeral, the rain poured and poured. Sometimes on rainy days, I can't stop thinking about her. As I was falling asleep last night, the sky opened up and it poured and poured. I fell asleep thinking about her. In the past 2 years that she has been gone, I have dreamt about her and the house nearly every week. Sometimes twice a week. The dreams have changed over time. She made a lot of cameo appearance and we talked, now she just exists as a feeling and I can not see her anymore...
If I could be anything like her or even close to it...
We are sitting in her kitchen. Talking. We are in the same seats that we used to sit in when we talked. It is stormy and raining outside and the kitchen is dark. I do not see her sitting across from me but I know she is there.
