Four.

Well, it’s been four years without you. Without your smile, your long black hair. Without your laugh that could light up a house. No, a life. My life. It’s been four years without your fine cuisine, wise words and house full of cats. It’s been four years without someone to turn to when my heart aches. It’s been that long. I didn’t think it was that long ago. I looked through my old posts to make sure, and I still can’t believe it. Without you, I don’t want to.

I remember last year, I just wished I could have a dream about you. Remember you, and not forget what a great mother you’ve been to me. You weren’t just my mother, you were my grandmother. You are my grandmother. The one that cradled me and raised me to look up to you. I still do. I still aspire to have your knowledge, vision, aura of utter elegance and dazzling beauty. I still walk with books on my head and read the news everyday. I still eat less bread than I want to. I still have a love/hate relationship with cats. I still want to improve.

Most of all, though… I still want to tell you how much my heart aches. How much it’s been aching, for four years.