Grandmas and burnt toast

(chicken coop)

I thought of my lovely Grammie this morning.

My toaster setting got turned up a little too high and my toast was a little burnt. When it popped out, the smell instantly took me back to hoofville, to mornings spent on my grandparents farm, to a the smell of bacon and eggs… to the smell of over cooked toast. I closed my eyes and thought of her, I thought of who she was and what a lovely person she was, how she loved me, how she loved others and how I loved her and her burnt toast. I thought of this weekend how I kept referring to her and how I would say "my grandparents"… and then I would find myself changing that to "my grandpa"… I miss her. I miss her every single day. I really doubt that anyone but BatGirl truly understands how I adored her and our special relationship.

Dearest sweetest Grammie,

I miss you, but that goes without saying. I miss the little things, your little funny looks, your silly laugh. I miss your toast and hearing you scoot around the kitchen in the morning. I miss walking to gather eggs with you and our little matching buckets. I miss how those hens didn't scare you a bit but they terrified me. You were so brave. I grew to understand you so deeply. I wouldn't change a single minute with you, not the hours spent in the hospital, not the days wondering if you'd make it, not the prayers begging God to take your pain away- none of it. Every single second with you was a gift that I'll cherish forever and ever.

I love you AND your burnt toast my Grammie.