Life is, well, life. As is death, apparently.

Some days, you just wish for the unattainable; a new pair of shoes out of your price-range to go on sale, a job that may be very out-of-reach, to marry a Pro football player (Jay Cutler, I love you). For me today (and for the last few months), I have desperately wished to speak with my grandmother who passed away in July. The woman was hip, fun, trendy, sweet, loyal, loving, strong (amongst many other things - and at the age of 76). Can we really sum up a person in a few words? No. Can I talk to her out-loud like I did when I was picking out her clothing for a funeral? Of course. Do I sound like I'm batty when I do speak to her out loud? Duh.

Thank (god, friends, family) that I can speak freely about missing her. I wonder, though, if my one-day children and grandchildren will have to go through what I am and long for me and the comfort that I give. Bottom line: amazing people are missed in an amazing way.

Merry Christmas, all, and Amma, you know.