Missing Gram

I'm 31, but sometimes, I feel like I'm 13. 

My hotel is pretty deserted right now, and I just went into the courtyard to get some water. I saw no one but just got the vibe of my Gram's house. Of course, it's where Papa lived too, but now, Papa's gone. I can never get one of his sloppy kisses or hug him or listen to him tell me all his travel stories from his days in the British Navy.

But Gram, Gram I'll see in just a few weeks.

I miss the black ceramic sugar creamers she had as decoration on the bookshelves, where she had those old "girl" mysteries I devoured as a child. I miss her red lipstick, her seashell purse. I miss her sensible pants and white sandals and the occasionally-baked-but-delicious coffeecake, and her grilled cheese with too much butter (but so good). I miss her hugs, and her naggings. 

There was just a vibe of Gram in the air, and you need to go with it sometimes. Enjoy the thoughts of them, embrace them. And in just a few weeks, I'll be in Florida, embracing Gram herself.