It doesn’t seem possible that a month has gone by since my Grandma took leave of this realm. My chest still gets tight and the lump forms in the back of my throat just thinking of it… the tears begin to well up in my eyes. But I haven’t talked to her or seen her… and prior to her hospitalization I had been with her every weekened or very nearly for years.
I lived with her as a child and one of many fond memories of life on the farm is getting my hair washed. She would lay me on the bathroom counter… later I would crawl up there myself. Then put my ratty little head in the sink. She always used this citrusy shampoo which I’m sure they don’t make anymore. I loved feeling her fingers in my hair.
A few years ago I was getting my hair washed at a salon… not quite the same experience. But… to my suprise the shampoo smelled just like the stuff Grandma had used. I immediately bought the largest bottle they had.
Now, every morning when I wash my hair I remember my Grandma and I smile. It’s a small, sweet memory and I cherish it now more than ever.
I haven’t been back up to the farm since the funeral and I know that at some point I’ll have to return. I can’t imagine going home without her there. Since the ground was still frozen last month we’ll have to bury her once it thaws. I suppose we’ll all go back to the farm afterwards. I guess the reality of it all will hit hard then.
I miss her every day but I know she’s watching over me.
