Tomorrow is the Tori Amos concert and while I am somewhere far beyond excited over that fact, the beginning of March this year brings with it an infinite sadness.

I don't believe what they say, that time heals all wounds or that time makes the pain become more bearable. I feel it just as much today as I did last year when my grandmother passed away. I miss her so much and even more when struck by the knowledge, that I will never see her again, hear her voice again or hug her once last time.

All my life my grandma was always right next door. When I was a little girl, I would always spend the entire weekend at her house. Sleeping at night beside her, in her craftmatic adjustable bed, getting me in trouble when she'd catch me messing around with the controls. I remember how sometimes her snoring was so loud, it was hard to get to sleep. Then again, the sound of her snoring was also reassuring and made me feel safe.

Even now, I can't make a spaghetti dinner without thinking of her, remembering how she taught me to make meat balls. Rolling each little ball into perfect circles, one after another. Or how, when I make KC her favorite soup, memories flood back of how she always made it for me, because it was my favorite. It's like her ghost is beside me in the kitchen, standing beside me whispering softly.

When my grandmother passed away, my sister Amy and I, were mere hours from her bedside. We drove all night to try to make it back in time for that last goodbye. Although we didn't it know it then, we were somewere in Kentucky when our grandmother took her last breath. It was so unreal, the morning we got there. Our father, gently pulling us aside and letting us know she was gone.

I didn't want it to be true, there was so much I had left to say. I remember the last time I spoke with her, a short week before her death. Towards the end, her alsheimer's was pretty bad and sometimes recalling something from the past would jog her memory if only for a brief moment. So when I said goodbye that day, I told her ... "I love you a bushel and a peck." to which she finished, "and a hug around the neck." And that was the very last conversation we ever had. I just wish with everything in my heart, that I had gotten one last hug. I miss her so much and in so many ways it defies explanation.

So tomorrow, if the angels are listening, maybe they'll let me know that she's still keeping a watchful eye over me by having Tori play her cover of "Angie". I love you nana.

Beneath the surface
my thoughts of you linger like
painted images in my mind
Fading echos,
like the setting of the sun
roll gently on the waves that whisper into my ears.

Li manco ...
Per sempre e fino alla conclusione di tempo, il mio amore sara eternal.
~ Stacey