Swing Sets and Potato Soup

My grandfather said it was as if she stood up and walked out the room, leaving her body behind. Aunt Judy held the phone up to her ear, and I said thank you. Spending hours sitting on my bed, I search through hundreds of old photographs from England, looking for her. I pile, scan, crop, edit, post, for my family and for myself. I find comfort in the photographs. She had called me Amelia Earhart for what I had been doing all summer. I was going to call her and tell her I was coming down next week, but she left before I did, and now she is calling me to come down anyways. Always sweet, always tender. My heart yearns for a sneeze, and a second one, just so I can hear you say, "Want to try for three?" Or even just an "I love you be careful" before I hang up the phone. I want to eat our favorite potato soup from Hof's Hut together. I want you to tell me how this dress looks, see if you'd approve of it for next Thursday. A lady that looked like you told me that you would think it looked great on me. Today at the airport, a mother pushed her son in a stroller towards his grandmother. As she was turned around, he yelled with arms wide open, "Granny! Granny!" She turned, and with the sweetest smile on her face, started crying. As she held her grandson in her arms, I yearned for one last embrace from you. My Gaga. I want you to be at my wedding one day. I want you to meet my dog. I want you to wipe away my tears and sing me to sleep, because you always knew how to calm me when I was weepy. My emotions run through my veins.

You are with me. Please, be with me.

1.28.25-8.7.11

Question of the blog:

Who have you lost?