(no subject)
It's been eight years today...it doesn't seem like it's been that long, but in another sense, it seems like forever. I was only 8 when it happened, but I can still remember exactly where I was, what I was doing, even what I was wearing. I was in 3rd grade. Mrs. Luker's class. I was working on my math homework...long division. I was wearing a new pair of jeans, a white tank top, my red jacket tied around my waist, and my new tennis shoes that lit up when I walked and had animal shoe laces (that I would later get teased about). I got called down to the office, which was a little odd. What was even stranger was when I got down there, my mom, Curt, and Brian were there. I saw tears in all their eyes. I wasn't prepared for what happened next. "Steph," my mom said, "Mamaw died this morning." At that time both my brothers started to cry. I loved my grandmother so much. It's hard sometimes without her. Everytime I drive past the cemetary, or I go to an Alabama game, I think of her. She was so wonderful. She followed Alabama football like a religion. I can still remember so much about her. Her voice, the way her perfume smelled, the way she made chicken and dumplins, the way she used to hid books from us so she wouldn't have to read them to us for the five-thousandth time. I loved her. People say I remind them of her, and I'm so proud of that. It's still just so hard.
Ok, sorry, I just had to get that out of my system. Today was fun. I slept most of it away. Went to church and Subway. I didn't really want to go to Subway, but yeah, whatever. I'm really tired, so I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight.
~Steph
When I kiss him...I melt.