I miss my grandma. She’s still alive, if you’re wondering.
I have to admit, I have been a bad granddaughter. I don’t visit her, ‘cause its too far, and I don’t even call her.
I didn’t use to be like this. I used to call her all the time. I used to be very close with her, but school started a year ago and I started to fade. It was wrong I know. She hasn’t done anything but kindness to me and this is how I repay her.
I miss my grandma. I miss calling her and crying when I’m sad. I miss telling her how I feel, and mostly, I miss the way she would talk to me.
She is absolutely the best living person I have ever met. I was so proud of her when she won the Joan Of Arc Award. She is one humble person who lives in the Lord’s path. She has been the best grandma.
When I was a kid, she would take me on walks. I think my love for nature came because of her. She opens my hope whenever I feel down and blue. She would buy me notebooks with a different texture and she would encourage me to write a story, and I know that she’s the one that opened that part of me also. I write a lot because she taught me how to love it. I sketch a lot because she would always let me draw when I want too. Plus, she’s an amazing woman when it comes to drawing also. I can never take my eyes of that landscape that she drew. I was so amazed. From that day on, I practiced my sketching because I wanted to be like her. She’s the kind of grandma that would let you do what you want and let you learn by yourself, but no matter what happens, she’s always there. That’s why I love her.