Grandma...

I've been thinking a lot about my Grandma Driscoll lately.

June 15th will be two years that she left us. They say time heals all wounds; I'm not so sure about that. Rather, I think with time, you just get better at hiding those wounds.

And now we have a beautiful new addition to our family. Grandma's 22nd (or is it 23rd?) great-grandchild. The first time her daughter (my mom) became a grandma herself. And she's not here to share our joy.

It bothers me. It really does.

I can see a little bit of Grandma in Zoey. From the shock of black hair to the way her little mouth forms a perfect straight line when she draws in her lips. Just like Grandma.

In some ways, it comforts me. But in other ways, it reminds me of what we lost.

I've heard all the comforting phrases... "As long as you remember her, she's never really gone"... "She's in a better place"... "She's looking down on us."

That may be true, but it doesn't replace her being here.

She may have been one of God's children, but she was my grandma. And as long as I live, I'll never understand why God took her away from me.

God, you have so many children... couldn't you leave us Grandma for a little while longer?