It was bags of starburst, liters of 7-Up, boxed mashed potatoes, bologna “tacos”, it was all the things we weren’t allowed to have at home, it was swing sets, baking cookies, making Jell-O and popsicles on hot summer days, trips to Wendy’s, it was sidewalk chalk, days at the neighborhood pool, calling Grandpa in his art studio on the intercom that it was dinner time, learning piano and guitar, “cleaning” your house for a few extra bucks, the big brown rocking chair that grandpa sat in all day, it was the bright teal mini van that I always had you park far away when you picked me up from school because I was embarrassed, it was spending sick days on your couch watching Gilmore girls, it was the southern magnolia tree in the front yard that we would climb every chance we got, it was sitting on the front porch, it was moving in for a season of high school, it was 1028 Lakemont road, it was where a majority of my growing up years were spent, it was exactly one mile from my own house, and it was my safe place.

No matter what, that house is where I could go to escape, to feel comforted. And after my mom sold the house I grew up when I moved out at 18, my grandma’s house felt like the only home I had left. After she passed, just a few days after Thanksgiving of 2020, the house was cleaned out and sold. She was a month shy of turning 92.

91 years and 334 days. From Kansas to Pennsylvania to Maryland, you lived a lot of life and I’m so grateful to have been a part of 24 of those. I’m grateful I got my love of art and writing and music from you. Today would be your 93rd birthday. It’s also New Year’s Eve. I am very excited and hopeful for this new year. I wish I could tell you all the things. I know you’d be so proud. So today, I will celebrate you and I will celebrate life. I will celebrate all the things yet to come, and all the things that have been.

You will always be one of the best parts of my life.