What an odd thing grief is, especially of someone you weren’t close with when they passed. It’s like. I don’t remember alot, you were part of my life at one point, you faded out to the periphery and now you’re gone for good.
Now I backtrack to those random rambles of flour plants and ice you and grandmother bounced off each other, and the chocolate bars you always brought for me on the way home from school, almost as though even though we weren’t connected by blood, we were by chocolate. I didn’t know it the last time I saw you would be the last. Perhaps that was for the best, and I hope you get to rest.
But now I wish I had kept those half-melted, half-frozen chocolate wrappers.
