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Some Days You Just Need Gramma

Some days a girl just needs her gramma. It's been two years, I think that's long enough. Today is her birthday and instead of sitting ooing and ahhing over frosting cake flowers, I'm sitting at work.

I know the eternal perspective is real, and I'm sure if Jesus stopped by Gramma's place this morning in Heaven and asked her if she wanted to take a quick jaunt back to Earth, she'd lift her coffee mug, smile and say with a quirk to her eyebrow and German pursed lip and go, "No. I'm good."

So, I'm glad she's good. But I'm not. I just miss her today. She was the strong one. She was the one who didn't cry. She was the one who took hard times in stride. She was the one who pulled weeds when she needed to ward of unwanted emotion. She was the one who'd already survived an earthly hell. She was who I want to be.

I'm human today. I just need you, Gramma. So I'll blow kisses to Heaven. I hope you catch them while you sip your coffee. Wait for me.

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