i haven't seen my grandmother in almost three years and now i won't, ever again. it's strange how time passes that way: slowly by day, but so fast in hindsight, tiny days piling up and up. in some ways i think i haven't seen my grandmother in half a decade. in some ways i think the last time i saw my grandmother was a lifetime ago. my grandmother used to send me poetry in the mail, written carefully by hand on lined paper. she used to call me "mollydear," like it was all one

what does it mean to be remembered? It is the last year of my great-grandmother’s life, and she believes she was born to royalty. She tells me of her girlhood in a Spanish castle, bare feet skidding across ancient stones and running grooves into the corners of the hallways. My great-grandmother is beautiful, with big almond eyes and dark skin that always seemed sun-kissed, even in winter. She tells me she was taught how to smile by her lady-in-waiting, a small Spanish girl fr