Sometimes I feel empty, emptiness like a house with no furniture. Staring in a large room where life no longer exists but my very own. Memories I try holding onto slip away as my tears blur the vision of remembrance. It becomes difficult each day gaining an inch of happiness, wondering why you left me so soon? Anger would only diminish my conscious of good I have because of you, yet I question your illness in hopes of God granting you a second chance of life. You loved me at the highest platform of my existence, in return reciprocity became the shower of kisses I drowned you in every chance I took. I can smell the essence of you that made it harder in keeping me away, piecing together an obituary and photo collage that resembles my thoughts of you. Now I realize glancing at a program harboring your smile is much harder to view, a death date solidifying every hope and wish of you returning falsified like an opportunity never circling again. I’m gonna pray my emptiness dissolve, replacing it with love as the concrete my heart shall express in memory of you.
I love you grandma.
– C.A. Thomas