I think one thing we all have in common is how much of our day reminds of her. She has never stepped foot into the house I live in now, but she is still in every room.
Her homemade dish cloth lies in the sink,
her potholders are well loved and used on the counter,
her towels that she turned into the skirt of a lady hang on the stove handle.
In my cupboards there is a sippy cup that I used at her house, that she passed on to Bentley
and a small glass dish that she would cook an egg in the microwave for me. I hated eggs and still do, but I would eat every bite just to see her do that.
In another cupboard lies a teddy bear shaped pan that she would make cakes in.
In the hallway hangs a "bags bag" that she made, and in the living room is a music box that she gave me. (also there is a picture of her and Bentley that I hung up tonight)
In Bentley's room is the sweater she bought from Aunt Leota and told me she wanted pictures. I took them, but didn't get a chance to send them.
There is also blankets and burp rags that she made.
In my bedroom is a corn husk doll, and countless books, espically a whole series she bought me that is centered around the relationship between a Grandmother and a Granddaughter.
In my bathroom it takes my breath away in the mornings sometimes, when I turn to look at the back of my hair, and remember her doing this countless times.
More than that, even though shes never stepped foot inside, I feel her here. Not just in my house, but in my life.
When I bend down to kiss a boo boo, I think of her doing that.
When I wash dishes, I think of us doing that
When I do laundry, I think of her doing that (and more!)
When I make my bed, I think of her doing that.
When I take a nap, I think she wouldn't have done that.
When I burn dinner, I wish I could tell her that.
When I pray, does she see that?
Im learning to play the piano, if only she knew that.
I loved her, I know that.
I know she loved me
I miss her. I know that.