Love

i love life
Even though both my grandma and I have grown much older since I was five running around her house, which seemed much bigger then, grabbing every button I saw and organizing them according to color, shape, and size, we still keep that strong connection holding onto it with our lives. She has always been there for me: holding my hand when I got stung by a bee, letting me cry on her shoulder when I would miss my mom after she went away for a long flight, and recently joining me on my college tours. She is the constant reminder that although I may be a hormonal teenager I am still that little kid who loves to do arts and crafts, and maybe even play with buttons every once in a while. She has been my rock in every endeavor I ever attempt to accomplish and every triumph I achieve.
My grandma’s house has changed a bit since I was five, but the most important things have remained. The dark orange tile floors, the beautiful blooming garden, and the wonderful antiques found in every crevice of her house have been there since I can remember. Her bed is not the same size as it used to be. Before it was at least three feet tall that my little five year-old self was never quite able to jump on, but now it rests almost directly on the ground because my grandma herself no longer had the strength to climb up on that tall bed.