Eleven years later, I still find myself talking to you..

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Dear Nanna,

Eleven years later, and I still find myself talking to you.

Not because I don't know how to live without you anymore.

But because there are some conversations that still belong only to you.

I wish I could ask you things that no one else seems to have the answer to.

Why do I always feel older than my age?

Why has my heart always understood pain before joy?

Why do I love people so deeply, even when I know they may never love me in the same way?

Why do I always find myself understanding everyone else's reasons before my own feelings?

And why is it that, no matter where I go, I always feel like I belong a little everywhere, but nowhere completely?

I don't know if these are questions life is supposed to answer eventually, or if they're the kind only a father could.

Maybe you would've laughed first.

Maybe you would've smiled and told me I was overthinking again.

Maybe you would've reminded me that I don't have to carry everything on my own.

Or maybe you would've simply sat beside me.

And somehow, that would've been enough.

I don't think I miss you only because you're gone.

I miss the version of me that would've existed if I'd had more years with you.

I miss having someone to ask these questions to.

Someone who would've understood me before I even finished speaking.

Someone who would've reminded me that it's okay not to have all the answers yet.

I still wear your cap sometimes.

I still look for you in songs, in libraries, in the sky, and in those quiet moments when life slows down enough for me to hear my own thoughts.

Sometimes I wonder if, in ways I'll never understand, you've been listening all along.

Maybe that's why I still talk to you.

Maybe love never really stops searching for the people it belongs to.

Eleven years later...

I'm still becoming.

Still learning.

Still asking questions.

And somehow, even in your absence...

I'm still becoming with you.

Until our conversations are no longer one-sided.

I love you forever.

Your Dolly. 🤍

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