Yesterday marked the six year anniversary of my grandmother's death. I can't believe it's been six years. It feels even longer when I think about all that has changed in my life since the last time I saw her. I remember telling her during that last visit that I had just gotten my first professional post-college job. She was so happy. And then she died the day before my first day at the new job. I went anyway, for her. Now that job seems like ages and ages ago. I was there for over a year. I was at my next job for two. And then there was September 11th, and being unemployed, and working on a political campaign, and I've already been at this job for a year and a half. Not to mention living in one apartment for three years, one for one year, and my current one for another year. And how about the new people I've met? The blog entries I've written? The little ways I've changed that she never got to see? So much has happened in my life that my grandmother will never know. I miss her every day.
  ¶ 5:07 PM