When I think of Halloween, I think of you


Happy birthday, Mema ❤️

It’s been a long 11 years without you. And I still think about you every day. It seems like yesterday, we were playing in the backyard with the Koi fish and you were calling me Sugar Pie. On Halloween every year, it never fails that I wake up thinking and dreaming about you. I know it’s just you saying hello. I always wonder why God had to take you away so early. 

This summer was the first time I made it out to see you. It’s been long over due, I know. But just to sit down and chat with you and catch you up on life was all I could ask for. It was one of those times I could feel you right there with me. I brought you your favorite flowers, Dahlias and I brought you a picture of our family. I always tell dad to plant the dahlias every year outside of our kitchen window so I can see them. I miss you like crazy, Mema. I wish you weren’t just a memory in my heart, because through these tough college times I wish I had you to call and get advice from. 

For those of you reading, my Mema was my dad’s mother who passed away when I was 8. She was an extravagant woman, to put it slightly. She was beautiful, she was kind, and she had the biggest heart I’ve ever met. She was known and loved by so many. She passed away suddenly at the age of 60. Ever since then, I’ve always wondered what she’d be telling me today. Or how close we would be. We had plans to go to the Kentucky Derby for my 21st birthday, which I still intend on doing sometime in my twenties… My Mema was born on Halloween, and she declared herself a witch ever since I could remember. As a little girl, I would giggle at the idea of my grandma being so witch riding around on a broom. But she would always prove to me that she had magic powers. And still to this day, I have no idea how to explain it. She would say she got me a toy and it’s hiding in the closet, I’d go look and nothing would be there. So I’d run back to her whining because she tricked me, but Mema would snap her fingers and make me go running back and a toy would appear in the closet. I don’t know how, because she lived alone. But sometimes things are better left as a mystery. My Mema was definitely a mystery to me; how was she magic? Why did she have to leave me so early?

My Mema was a witchy woman. She was exquisite. She was beautiful. She was so, so, so strong. She was rare. I miss her so much, and she is so dear to my heart. Every year, I wish I could just have one more conversation with her. With the memories I have of her, I hope I can still make her proud and grow up to be half the woman she was. I won’t ever understand why she had to leave this earth so early, but I will always know that she’s watching over me and my dad and the rest of our family. ❤️

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