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This time last year we were making funeral arrangements for my grandmother. I'm still in disbelief every time I walk into my aunt's house and she's not sitting there in the kitchen, reading the same book for the 5th time because she didn't remember she'd finished it.
Holidays have gone by, seats have been re-arranged, and prayers especially have been sent up asking for inner peace and good things in life. I walk terrified in this life, and know that somehow, in-between jitterbug dance sessions up in heaven, she and my grandfather are amongst the angels holding me up.
I miss you Mema.
Because songs define our moments.