By Sara Nichols
I miss her laugh that could be heard across the room.
Her smile that could brighten anyone’s day.
Her love for every single person in the world, no matter how rude they were.
Her patience for my two sisters and me.
Her despise for rodents.
Her funny storytelling skills.
Her yummy crepes she would make every morning.
Her goofy personality that could make anyone feel better.
Her huge disgust for milk even though I loved it.
Her terrible singing skills that she enjoyed so much.
Her perfect organizational habits.
Her warm and cozy hugs that could make me feel better no matter what.
Her unbarring love for God even through everything.
Her telling me I am so smart, beautiful, and kind, just like her.
Her strength to fight the battle she had to fight until it ended.
I miss how she thought the smallest things were funny.
How she couldn’t say some words correctly so she made up her own.
How she said the funniest words with her accent.
How she would rant angrily in Spanish.
How she always put up with my attitude.
How she didn’t know the difference between a nickel and a penny.
How whenever I needed help she could always help me.
How she could make friends with literally anyone she met and she did.
How she would always try to understand me and get closer to me.
How she took me everywhere with her.
How she always complained about everywhere being cold.
How when she got mad it really brought out her accent.
How she would take me to run errands with her all the time.
How her hands were always warm when I would hold them.
How she would always try to get closer with her family.
How she refused to let anyone take her peace.
How she would make fun of me for every boy I ever talked about.
How she made us put sunscreen on every twenty minutes to ensure we didn’t get burnt.
How she knew each and every one of her daughter’s individual traits.
How she would pray the longest prayers every night.
I miss hearing about her life as a kid.
Hearing how she used to take dolls with her wherever she went.
Hearing about how her and my dad met and got married within less than a year.
I miss the wisdom she would share with me.
The way she so powerfully worshiped.
The time she took me to watch Twilight primer cause I was so obsessed.
The traditions we had with her for every holiday.
The funny jokes she would make during scary movies so we wouldn’t be so scared.
The small spanish lessons she would give me on sundays at the table.
The way she had every little thing organized and knew where everything was.
The way she made everyone happy, like me, my sisters, and my dad.
The memories I got to make with her.
I miss when she raised enough money to take us all to Florida.
When we would go to the colombian restaurant every Sunday with her.
When she took me and Isa to swimming lessons and Olive Garden every Saturday.
When she took me to the movies for my birthday.
When she would invite me on all kinds of errands with her.
When she would get me up in the mornings.
When I didn’t have to be so independent.
When I got to spend time with her.
I miss her.