Monday, August 23, 2010

Missing Manic Monday: Bit

When my Grandma Carol passed away I inherited a double bed that was in her house.  It was the very bed Dustin and I always slept in when we went to stay there.  This bed is now where Mac sleeps.  I was tucking him in tonight and as he was saying his prayer I had my face down on his bed.  As I laid there with my nose buried in his blankets, I realized that there is a lingering bit of the scent of my grandma's house embedded in the mattress.  It was a very faint trace, but as I caught that smell I started crying.

I would give almost anything in this world to be able to walk into my precious grandmother's house one more time and inhale that distinct Grandma-Carol's-house smell, walk up her brown-carpeted stairs, into her kitchen and see her sitting at her dining room table or on her couch and soak up the warmth of her smile as her face lights up in greeting.

I miss her so acutely in this moment. 

Grandma Carol and my baby Ella Brae, 2002

1 comment:

Kristin said...

I'm so sorry nobody commented here. It's such a personal post. As I recall, when my mom died, your one way to relate to my grief was how you felt when your grandma died. I ache too... I don't like to admit it because it brings the feelings to the surface. I want so much to have her here to share with in my experience. The other day I was at my cousins' new house and the layout was very similar to the house I grew up in and without meaning to I thought, "I've got to tell my mom about this!" It's been a while since something like that happened. And the truth is, if she were alive she would already have known. Fortunately my dad is very willing to fill her shoes and I was able to call him to share the story and my feelings of longing.