Dear Gram,

You died a year ago today, at 11:50 am. I remember the chills down my spine, I remember staring at the clock, I remember feeling cold and not able to explain why. I remember saying "I love you". Those were the last words you heard me say. I remember sitting and playing guitar, holding your hand, playing cricket and cootie. I remember the old cigar box I painted. I remember helping mom cut and curl your hair. I remember how you'd fold anything and everything, even dirty clothes or napkins. I remember going to the zoo to see the geico gecko, that was the day of the first packing event I ever went to, I hope you're proud of me, I was wearing pink that day. I remember that time you sewed a smile on the stuffed animal I didn't like because I said he was grumpy. I remember you calling me pal. I remember the bear, you know which one I mean. I remember the cross, the one you were holding when you died. I remember that you don't like the smell of tuna fish. I remember how you'd sprinkle pepper on the trashcan to keep Jack away. I remember how I'd beg you to take out your front teeth, and the funny faces you'd make as I giggled. I remember looking through all those pictures and listening to your stories. Like the one about the dolls and the ladder or the time you and Anne got ticketed for jaywalking in Lakewood. I remember that one time Tasha asked you how you were doing three times because she kept forgetting she'd already asked. I remember all the calendars you gave me for my birthday. I remember your coo-coo clock. I remember all your flashlights, and your ivory pin cushion. I remember walking around the building over and over again and you'd play along as I waved around my "magic wand". I remember how you'd always say "you too" instead of the three words I so badly wanted to hear. I remember when you finally said them. I remember when they told me you were dead. I remember walking to class. I remember the woman asking me if I was Kathleen. I remember collapsing. I remember feeling like I'd never be happy again. I remember mom coming to school to pick me up. I remember driving home, wishing my hardest to wake up from a bad dream. I remember seeing you. I remember your face. I remember you weren't breathing. I remember touching your face. I remember your cold skin. I remember finally realizing that you were gone. I remember going back to school. I remember we had a substitute. We were learning how to draw Lewis-dot structures. I remember that one guy asking me if what happened was "triste". I remember crying in the hallways, surrounded by my friends. I remember going to see Ms. Lopez. I remember the white van that took you away. I remember turning the car around. I miss you every day of my life. I love you. Thank you for all these wonderful, wonderful memories; they're the best thing you could have ever given me.

I love you.