I was looking back over my blog, the little of it that I have actually written and was proud of the entries. Although there are few, they are thoughtful and worthy of reading. I was especially touched rereading the one about my grandma. At that time I could not imagine that she would ever be gone, and now it has been almost a year. I still find myself wanting to call and talk to her like I did every morning and evening. I think of something that she would find funny and want to share it. I want to call and talk to her about Dancing with the Stars or Two and a Half men just to get her take on it. I want to share my weekends at the kitchen table with her visiting and grading papers. I just miss her. Not that I ever doubted that I would, but there is still a hole in my person where she belongs. I guess I have grieved accordingly and hold myself together in public for the most part. I can speak of her now without breaking down completely. I try to remember how many completely special and unremarkable moments we spent together. I know how lucky I was to be hers. I will be spending this weekend, the one year anniversary of her passing, celebrating life with my sweet cousins. I am looking forward to their cheerfulness and fun to be a great distraction. However, like me they knew grandma and it will be a good time to reminisce about how wonderful she was.