I miss the smell of grandmother's house as I enter the back door.
I miss the toile wallpaper and gas fireplace that is lit three seasons of the year.
I miss the purple bedroom where I slept with my aunt until she got married and moved next door.
I miss the red bedroom and huge Gone With The Wind lamp that sits in front of the window.
I miss the ladybugs behind every curtain in the house.
I miss the grandfather clock's toll and Westminster chime.
I miss the winding staircase with heavy wood banister.
I miss the turquoise bathroom with Estee Lauder powder and lingering scent.
I miss the attic where I found my mother in 2012.
I miss ringing the dinner bell.
I miss the radio tuned to WILE, and the whistle of the tea kettle.
I miss the breakfasts of oatmeal, toast, tea and oranges.
I miss Muffet, Ryan, Tilly and Shane.
I miss the cats that gather for scraps and bread and milk in a tin plate on the porch.
I miss the huge trees that shade the parlor and kitchen windows.
I miss the porch swing and rocking chairs.
I miss her.
I miss my grandmother.
