I've been thinking of you
And how you used to let me eat cough drops like candy, and sleep with my face nuzzled in your back
The world couldn't touch me there
I am engulfed in the world now.
I miss the days you would rescue me from home to take me shopping, and you wouldn't make me go back. You would tell dad that you were keeping me until he was nicer, that I was your little girl now.
I know dad misses you too
He just won't talk about it
I'm glad you didn't have to see him on the day you forgot his name, because all he could do was cry.
Three years ago, we all cried together. He cried because he would miss you, mom cried because we did, and I cried because no one had even told me you were sick.
Dad said it was better to remember you how you were: sassy and full of life.
But I don't think he realized that the memories would follow you.
Sometimes I can't remember your voice, but I can still remember how the nursing home smelled like death. I have a lot of things to apologize for now. Like when things got really bad, and I wouldn't answer the phone anymore. Or when I stopped saying yes to rubbing your feet. Most importantly, when I didn't visit you for three years because no one would bring me, but also because I couldn't make myself do it.
Things are okay now, and I am sure you're in a better place
You're voice comes back when I do stupid things, because I'm sure you still scold me with my middle name. Thank you for looking down, because I am looking up.
I don't know about God, but I do know about you
And I know you're with me
And I know I love you more than you could imagine
All the Archangels are rubbing your feet now, and you don't even have to give them a dollar.
I miss you, Aunt B.
