It's been under two months since I lost you. I miss you, Nanny. As I laid beside your hospital bed, I longed to hold your hand for eternity. To feel your warmth for what could've been, and was the last time. I'll forever remember the summertime sleepovers at your house. Walking around the bay all day and then returning home to a boiling house since you always willed to have the wood stove on. You're the first person I truly lost. And it's only hitting me now that you're gone. I wish I could have spent more time with you. It kills me that I hadn't. You had the memory of an Elephant. Although you had 14 children, 16 grandchildren, and 6 great-grandchildren. You somehow remembered when everyone's birthday was. You were so caring and considerate. When I was in the hospital struggling with my mental health, you would always call my Mom and ask how I was doing. And you continued to do so even after I was discharged. I mourn your kind heart and dry sense of humor. I still laugh when I recount the way you would look at my ripped jeans in shock and then almost faint when I told you how much I paid for them. I'm already dreading Christmas. The family tradition of gathering at your house will not feel the same. You won't be at the table in your seat scratching lottery tickets or in your room reading the bible. But I'd like to think your spirit will be embracing us all. Bringing back the Holiday cheer that once surrounded us all. The last days of your life in the hospital were hard. You were too weak to talk or even open your eyes. Everyone huddling around you in the small private room. Trying to hold out hope that your health might improve. It sadly did not. On February 25th, 2022. Heaven gained a beautiful angel. My grandmother, Beatrice Hawkins, passed away at the striking age of 93 years old. She lived an amazing life and drifted off in peace and happiness. I'd like to think she is dancing with my Grandfather, Aunt and Uncles at this very moment. Watching over everyone in bliss.