Uncle J.P.

Some days are better than others, that's what she tells me. Then she says that she always feels like something is missing, and that she doesn't have anyone to talk to the same way that her and grandpa used to talk. This is what really sends me downhill fast. I want to lose it right then and there, but I have to hold it together, well, because I don't want to let her know that I feel terrible for her and that I miss him so much, but not nearly as much as she does. After all, he was her heart for 50 odd years. The man that she gave everything to and got everything in return. I wouldn't know what to do with myself either. After holding back the tears and coming dangerously close to letting out a sob, I tell her that it will take time, and that I know that we're not exact substitutes for grandpa, but that we are here to listen and talk to her just the same. Then she goes and makes me feel guilty again by saying "I can't wait to see you this week, and I wish you would come out here more often for a visit." Grandmas seem to be good at that kind of thing. She also tells me that I need to go to church more often. I often worry about her and wonder what she thinks about, and hope it's not the worst. I hope that she still goes out and talks to grandpa everyday at the cemetery, even if it is a depressing thought. I wish I could talk to him too. I miss you Grandpa, and yes, the days are getting easier, but I still think about you as much as I used to.