Eula Mae.

I talked to you today. I reached out, and cried to you. I poured my soul out in a million words. I screamed. I joked. I smiled. I laughed. I cried. I told you everything you've missed out on over these last few years. I asked for your advice. You didn't respond. You said nothing. You just stared back at me. Beaming. I asked you where I go from here. Where do I find the courage and the strength to continue on. How do I handle everything you've missed. You used to always be there for me. You used to hold my hand. You'd answer my questions with your best advice and show me the positivity in the situation. I miss your smile. I miss your crazy ways. I miss watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune with you. I miss you with every fiber of my being. Tonight, when I talked to you, while you shined back at me from millions of miles away, I smiled. I remembered all those time you reassured me that my dad was coming back for me. I remembered all those times we scared you in the kitchen and you would almost really have a heart attack. I remember how you almost always burned dinner, because you had no sense of taste, or smell. I remember so many things about you that make me smile to myself. I'm sad that you're gone. I accept it. But grandma, the last time I saw you, I don't know if you really saw me. Did you really know it was even me? You stared at my blankly...like I was a stranger. You held my hand and you screamed, in what seemed was fear of me. Sometimes, I'll head out to the west side of town, park across from an empty 5 acre lots, and pretend the house is still there. It reminds me that my childhood was real. It reminds of the good times we all had, and I just can't seem to let any of it go. It feels like the only real thing that I had left in connection to that part of my life. To you. I'll talk to your tomorrow again. Hoping to get some kind of sign in return. Your spirit is still with me, after all of these years.