Grandflower (noun): a grandparent who helps you blossom into something beautiful by believing in you every step of the way.



I’ve been wanting to write about one of my biggest sources of strength for a while now, but every time I think I can bring myself to start, I grow into a giant tree full of fear. My branches become heavy. My roots crumble beneath me. I’m scared I won’t portray her with enough beauty and justice – she deserves that. I’m scared that once I climb up that tree I won’t ever be able to come down again. I’m scared that my eyes will open to things I’m not yet ready to see. But most of all, I’m scared that reliving the end of her life will fill me with too much hate.

“If blood is thicker than water..then you’ll drown quicker than we intended.” – Circa Survive

Family has never been a word I use lightly. However, I will tell you that to me, family is who you choose. It’s those whom you can depend on when everything else in the world just doesn’t fit, who love you even when you can’t bear to be around your own damn self, who drop everything to support you even if they don’t quite understand your journey. It’s the people who stand by your death bed, telling old stories to you, holding your hand, knowing you were never perfect, but also knowing that you selflessly gave of everything you were capable – both physically and emotionally.

In my own personal experience, I have seen far too much unconditional love abuse where others utilize it as a tool to do morally wrong and disturbing things to their loved ones while believing it is their right to do so – especially when material gain is involved. This path is a sad one that only leads to holes in your soul. Rest assured, all that goes around comes back around eventually. I however will have moved beyond all this hate long before that ever happens. 

So before I drench this post in tears and heartache…I want to tell you all what my “Gma” was like when she walked this planet in her physical body. Or more importantly who she was to me. She was my grandmother, my surrogate mother for the years of my life that I needed one the most. Don’t get me wrong, she did not lack in human imperfection, but to me she was my real life angel. Susan Hope Romano loved her grandchildren more than she loved herself. She taught me how to be independent when I felt I wasn’t capable, how to be wise when I felt that my age was against me, how to be strong when I felt at my weakest and how to live a life I wanted to be proud of no matter the past. She never let it define me. Truth be told, she wasn’t this person to many and for that version of her I cannot speak to as it wasn’t the woman I knew. She was one of my best friends in this 3D world for the better half of mine and it’s taken me longer than I’d hoped, but shorter than I expected to accept that I can no longer see her, hear her voice, hug her or be in her physical presence. She passed her soul onto us three years ago this past January and I’m forever left with the permanent guidance to follow my heart toward happiness. To this day I reflect back on all the good times we had, all the bad times she stood by my side and all the days in between that didn’t seem to matter much then, only to change my life now.

She blessed me with her love for the beauty of flowers, anything watermelon flavored, the sun on my face and the lighthearted melody of Jimmy Buffet. She visits me from time to time, but just enough to remind me that I’m never alone. I know she is proud. I know she understands. I know she is finally at peace with phoof, which puts a smile in my heart now. I know she sees all and is all and for that I am eternally grateful.

They say that life is only, but a short breath, by the time you realize it’s worth living. I made her a promise that day, to live each breath to the fullest, not only for me, but for all my love.

Every second of every day of every week of every month of every year I am with you and you within me.


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