Day 11 - A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk to

Dear Gram,

I don't really know exactly what to say - there seems to be so much that I want to tell you about and I'm not sure where to start.

Well, first off, I miss you. You are always in my thoughts, and there rarely is a day that goes by without me wondering what you would think of what I am doing, and how I would be different from who I am right now if you were still alive. You were, and still are, my role model, and I want nothing more than to make you proud.

I think you'd like who I am today: I try to be polite and gracious, I try to be a good friend, and try to put my best foot forward with everything that I attempt. I know that I don't always succeed, but I also know that you'd be okay with that. I believe that you and Granddad would love it that I am at U of M - Granddad never lost his Wolverine heart. And I think that you'd like it that I am so close to home.

If you were still alive, part of me would hope that the past months wouldn't have been so hard. I would have had family close, no matter where I called home. And even if we were separated, I know that you would make sure I knew that you were thinking about me. And I want you to know that I'm thinking about you.

I haven't knit in a while, and I'm sorry about that. I miss it. Sometimes, when I sit to knit, I feel connected to you - it's like our souls are connected by the yarn. I remember sitting on your lap when I was younger, with your hands clasped over mine, working the yarn to make an awful-looking pot holder. I still have it.

Aunt Susan gave me one of your books as a graduation present (it's Snowbound), and I cried when I read her note. You kept the family together, and though I realize that reality might not have changed if you were still alive, it seemed like you were what brought everyone together, even if it was only once every couple of years.

This letter has been sporadic. I'm sorry that my thoughts aren't fluid, and that writing is choppy. But I really don't know how to put down ten years of thoughts in one letter. Nor do I think I ever could. But, on a certain level, part of me believes that you know where I am now. It still feels as if you're a part of me, even though you're no longer a physical presence on Earth. I don't think that it's just that I remember you in my brain, or in my heart (though I do for both), but also that you are a part of me - that our bonds are so strong, and so precious to me, that I protect them with everything that I have.

I don't want to lose you, Gram. And I'm going to do everything in my power to not let that happen.

I love you, and miss you terribly.