Eleven years have passed. It is a date that many will not forget for the profound horror this day bought upon the world. However, for me, and my family, this day is one of personal pain.
It has been 11 years. I still miss you so much. I miss our Sunday night phone calls. I miss that you have not seen Tamika grown up into this amazingly beautiful woman. I miss that you never got to meet Justin, you would have loved his gentle soul that calms me and keeps me sane. I miss that you have not got to meet your youngest Great-grandson Jarvis, he is a delight in every way. I miss your influence on my life.
But most of all I just miss you and your three kisses. I love you.
Patrica Hartmann, who was many things to many people, Grandmother, Mother, Sister, Great-Grandmother, friend, artist, world explorer, died. She was, is, my inspiration. And for the few years we lived together in the same house, Pat became more than my Grandmother, she was my friend, my confidant and my teacher.
I will not, cannot use, words such as loss or passed on, I did not lose my grandmother, I know where she is, she died, but she will be in my heart forever.