I was singing in the car on my way home from work. The sun was low in the sky under a blanket of gray and the wipers swiped in tandem with the music. I squinted to see the lines on the highway -- forgot my glasses at my desk -- and dodged pools of water that looked like small lakes.
And then it popped into my head - randomly, without warning: thoughts of my grandmother. I could see her face and hear her faint, raspy voice. Flashback to my final visit with her. She told me to be a good wife and mother, and to have a happy life. She said not to worry, she was tired and ready to go. I kissed her and whispered "I love you Gram", and she clasped my hands in hers and said, "I love you too Lyn. Every once in a while stop and say a little prayer for me".
And with that I walked to the door - looked back at her tiny, frail frame propped up in the bed - and said "Bye Gram. I love you". She smiled with great effort and mouthed "you too".
And so Gram, I kept my promise. I thought of you today -- and said a little prayer. It was random and unexpected, but memories are like that. Sometimes we choose them and other times, they find us.
You've been gone for twenty years; I still miss you.