A Year Since My Grandmother's Death

It's been a year to the day since my maternal grandmother died at ninety years of age. Time goes fast . . .. 

You could say I'm over it, though that's a lousy term to use. Of course I miss her. Why wouldn't I? But we can't forever mourn lost loved ones. Life goes on. My mother's side of my family, in fact, has probably been very close in the past year for the first time in a long time. I've seen more of my Aunt Eleanor and her two children - one of them, my cousin Doreen, just had her first child - and, as noted before, I saw my cousin Michele for the first time in decades. And my mother and I see her brother - my Uncle Bruno - regularly. We've stayed relatively well together in the past year.

My grandmother would have been proud.