1/6 of Granna's Girls

I have been dreading this post for the entire month of January, but today is the day.
I am writing to you with tears rolling down my cheeks, and photos of my childhood on my lap.
On January 22nd, 1951, one of the most influential people of my lifetime was born. Born to the name Willie Jo Janes, daughter of Irene and Ernest.
She lived an amazing life, and to love her was to know her. But, to be her granddaughter was so unbelievably special. I shared this privilege of being her granddaughter with 5 other girls. Ashley, Karsen, Molly, Kaitlin, Kiley, and I were Granna's girls. Many of our greatest childhood memories took place at 2262 Lakeview Court. We spent so many summer days modelling our latest dress-up fashions, or catching frogs in the pond out back. We'd play explorers with the neighbor kids next door. We'd spend every Easter searching for the next clue to our scavenger hunt, following an Easter Egg hunt. She loved her girls. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for one of us. She was the most generous person I had ever met. Anytime there was a sale, she'd wipe out the rack. She'd bring home shoes and clothing ranging from every size available, even though we were all so young and could easily wear each other's sizes, she'd happily update the dress-up closet. I remember one particular time, she unloaded her big bag of goodies she brought home that weekend, and there was a pair of little boy's shoes. I was so puzzled, because we were a family of all girls. I asked her why she bought them. Her reply? "I was sure I could find someone that needs them." And she meant that, too.

Granna,
I went to see you yesterday.
I drove to New Hope around 1 pm.
I arranged lights on your grave to stand up nice and straight.
I fixed Pops' flags that were tilting halfway on the ground.
I picked up the can of tennis balls I brought you last time, and sat them neatly on your headstone.
I dropped to my knees.
And prayed.
The older I get, the harder it seems to be to cope. I have always heard time heals all wounds. I'm still waiting.
I was just 11 years old when you went to live with God.
My heart was broken to find you would only be part of a very small fraction of my life.
11 years.
Then, I remember thinking I was one of the lucky ones.
Kiley was only 7, getting the least amount of you in her life than the rest of us.
I look back on this past year. Every event, every fundraiser, every milestone. I think about how things would have been different. How much you would have loved this beautiful journey. How you would have sat in the audience to witness my victorious moment. Every time I step on a tennis court, I play wearing a visor that you once wore all the time. I think about how much you would have enjoyed sharing the love of a sport with me. I can't help but think of you every time I play a match. I can't help but think of you when someone comments on my happy-go-lucky personality, because my mind will always go to telling me that my happiness would carry me in life. You told me how "easy" of a granddaughter I was, because no matter what- I was always happy. I can't help but laugh every time I see a bright orange pair of crocs, just like the ones you sported every summer. You truly were one of a kind.
To the lady who gave me my green eyes,
my quick wit,
and hardworking grit,
Happy Birthday.
I love you so.
Your "good-um girl" is doing good.