"Ave Maria," as performed by Aaron Rosand is just finishing playing in iTunes. When it started, I was just overwhelmed by missing my Grandma so much. Mr. Lenahan sang a version of Ave Maria at her funeral, which we're just shy of the 4 year anniversary of.
For someone who claims to be a writer, I have a hard time articulating that which I feel the most. My family is all bat-shit crazy, but I know Grandpa's always there for me--and I knew Grandma was, too, right up until the end.
I miss the way she used to ask me if I was sure I didn't want any more cookies/cake/junk food, and then tell me I was getting a fat fanny. I miss the 70 cents she used to put in our allowance, in case we needed to use the pay phone (enough for two calls a week!). I miss the rips in the kitchen table where I did all my homework from 3rd to 8th grade, while watching the Disney Afternoon and re-runs of Saved By the Bell or 90210. I miss the way she'd call Bush "your president." I miss the dismissive hand-wave she gave, head turned away, when you teased her. I miss the marble notebooks she used to calculate their taxes that were under the TV in the spare bedroom. I miss all the little things you forget because of the hospital smell and proliferating drug regime and the albuterol (that she always said was too salty) and because she was shrinking away until she was gone. And all the things you forget because she's gone, and we don't talk about her because you don't talk about the things that matter most.