Lights Will Guide You Home... And I Will Try To Fix You.

Typed on 11/3/11

I'm currently at Hancock Airport in Syracuse, waiting to board a plane to Cleveland so that I can connect to Houston, yet once again.

Usually, I'm really excited to go home. I get to spend time with my family and girlfriend for a couple of days. We have a small dinner at home with some laughs and share some stories. I tell them about school, the cold, and how I've managed to feed myself. I'm sure it's the same agenda for this weekend, but there's something out of the ordinary that I've been dreading.

I'm going with my mother to the hospital to say goodbye to a friend.

D's known me since I was a sonogram and she's my mom's dearest friend. I'm very fortunate to have all my grandparents, but it feels as though I'm losing one. I thought I had more time. Every time I saw her she was standing tall and sharing her wisdom. We went on lunch dates with mom every other month. I thought I had more time. I took what little time we had for granted. Now that I think about it, no matter how much more time we would've been given, it wouldn't have been enough. It would've never been enough.

She's been in a coma for a little over a week and a half, so I wonder if she'll be able to hear me when I thank her.

When I thank her for being a grandmother to my sister and me,

for always remembering to send a birthday card,

for never canceling a lunch date,

for always believing in me,

for being such a good friend to my mom,

for showing me what a strong and independent woman looks like...

...for everything.

11/5/11

I went to visit last night.

I told her everything and said goodbye.

I left with the heaviest heart, weighing me down and crushing everything inside.

We love you very much, Dottie. Safe travels back to Pennsylvania.