Missing someone

First, I'm proud to say that I've actually had the same email address for 6 years now. This coming from a person who (for a time anyhow) needed a new purse every 3 months. So, needless to say - an accomplishment. Tonight, in an effort to dig up the website I used for my international calling card while Eddie was deployed the first time, I went to the very end of my inbox of 12425 messages (that's not exaggerated either.) What I found was a treasure trove of emails...some of which came from my Grandmother who passed away several years ago. It was kind of like a shock to the senses, really....of course they would be there, but I hadn't really planned or expected to see or read then and when I did, I found myself really basically falling apart. I don't think I'll ever get over the way she was suddenly taken out of our lives, or the timing. The very first thing that came to my mind when I realized she was not going to make it back to us was that she would never get to meet my children. That fact still stings - badly. We talked a lot about my future children....joked about what kind of mother I would make (for those who don't know, I don't think I ever really truly believed I'd ever actually MAKE a child one day, and yet I kind of always knew I would at the same time.)  When I became pregnant less than a year after her passing, it always felt like someone was missing from the picture and it still does. Every single day. I think the reason it hit me so hard tonight was because of how close she and I became during Eddie's first deployment. We had 15 months of bonding, and she told me stories of what it was like during the war, when she was pregnant with their first and wouldn't hear from him for months at a time, only to receive a letter with half the information blacked out. I wish I could remember every single story she told me, but I can't. What I do remember was sitting around her table and sharing those moments with her, and I honestly would give SO much to be back at her house right now, ribbing on men and their silliness and listening to her talk about her life. Sure, this 'deployment' has been quite a bit less traumatizing on me, and with only a couple of weeks left to tough out, I'm more than confident that Julian and I are going to make it through with flying colors...but that doesn't mean it doesn't get lonely. That doesn't mean that I wouldn't love to pick up the phone and hear my Grandmother's voice on the other end of the line or get an email just checking on me to make sure I haven't burned the house down yet.

So, those emails will stay put in my inbox. Maybe one day I'll print them and add them to the other letters and cards I have saved from my Grandmother, and maybe one day Julian can come to know a small bit of what his Great Grandmother was like. It won't be the same of course, but I am ever so thankful for the small electronic reminder that once upon a time I had a best friend, who accepted and loved me always, even fully knowing my faults. She knew me from birth and helped to mold me and the way I view the world, and I'm glad for the little bit of conversation I had with her tonight, even if it was 5 years old.

I have a cropped version of this photo encased in my entertainment center, and one day when Julian was just about 15 months old, he stood looking at it. I asked who that was, and he said "Momma and Grandma."  It's possible I told him at some point that it was a picture of Great Grandma, but if I did, it was maybe once, and yet he still answers the same way every time you tell him!