Harmony.

I'm actually writing this while visiting my grandmother's grave. I can't say that it just hit me that she's gone, but I guess you could say that I'm experiencing an aftershock. Supposedly they lessen with time.

So anyway, I'm sitting here watching the sunset. I picked an area on a hill next to a tree with a view of the city and the sunset. My grandmother wasn't very sensitive or girly, but if she was at church or trying to put on a front for someone important, then this is something she'd pretend that she liked.

While sitting here, I remembered that there will be no more memories. No more new stories to tell. The last actual memory is her taking her last breath. So as I sat here thinking about the cyclical nature of things: she was there in the delivery room for my first breath, and I was there in the ICU for her last.

As I thought about that, I felt this wave of grief. I don't think I felt it after she died. I was too busy planning things. So I was sitting here about to tear up, and I decided to pull out my phone and play a song she used to play all the time when I was little, Rough Side of the Mountain. Just as I was about to hit play, I heard her. I literally heard her voice.

"What the hell are you about to play that for. Turn that thing off. You ain't wanna listen to it when I wanted to hear it. Stop being stupid. What are you crying for. You better get in that damned car and go get something to eat. You wanna remember me...then go to Golden Corral and get a little piece of cornbread or one of them rolls. Wrap it up in a napkin and bring it back here, if you wanna do something for me. I told you, you can be sad but don't sit around here crying like a damned fool."

You know what? I feel a lot better. LOL
I'm going to get something to eat.