I love memories. I love things that I associate with memories. Objects, heirlooms, songs, places, if I have a memory associated with something, it's hard for me to part with it. I suppose that's normal, but I don't find it to be the case with many people.

Grandma died four months ago today. It's hard to believe that much time has passed since we have seen or spoken to or heard from her. I still miss her and Grandpa so much. I find myself looking at pictures of them and thinking of them a lot. My parents' old video camera got fixed a couple of weeks ago, and I've been able to watch more old videos of them. I love seeing their faces, hearing their voices, their laughs.

I still hold on to them. Their memory can never be taken from me. Even if all those videos were gone, if you took away the things I have from them, I will always remember them. The advice my Grandpa gave, even if unsolicited, and the love my Grandma gave. I don't live in the past memories as I was, but I still think of them. I still love them, and I know that even when I'm 100 I will miss them. The acute pain of their loss is almost gone, being replaced by melancholy yet happy remembrances of them. I know I will see them again someday.

I'm looking forward to Camp Kulaqua a week from today. It's gonna be fun!