I’ll never drive off that cliff because of you grandma. I feel as if we’re living parts of your life, and I wish we could talk to you about it. I wish we could hear the story of you from you. I wish you knew you have grand daughters who are just like you. I wish you could of waited to see it. I know you wouldn’t of felt as alone in this world if you had. I know we wouldn’t of. I wish we could talk to you about coming out in a religious family. I wish we could of talked to you about leaving your life of country clubs and wifely duties to pursue a life of art and freedom. About being a part of the counter culture. God, I wish we could of talked about art. I wish we could of talked about why you left my dad and his sisters. I wish I could of came and stayed with you during the summers at your house on the edge of a red wood forest in Northern California. I wish we could of made art together in your green house studio. I wish I could hear about all of your experiences. To meet all the eccentric people in your world. I wish we could of talked about what it was like to be a feminist in the 60s versues today. I wish I could listen to you recall your memories of Woodstock. I wish we could of been best friends. I wish you would of been here for us. We would of been there for you. You just needed to wait for us to grow up just a little bit more. Maybe you would of realized life’s worth living. That you’re children and your grandchildren loved you. That you weren’t alone. I wish you wouldn’t of drove off Goat Rock. But you did. I won’t drive off that cliff, I’ll stick around and wait because this life no matter how I’m feeling at times, is worth living.
