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Mondays Are The Hardest



I used to hate Mondays. Then I looked forward to Mondays. Monday was my day. I got to help her up. Make her breakfast. And spend all day with her. Monday was the day I learned most from my Grandma, because I was with her from 8 am to 9 pm. Monday's were spend drinking a Diet Dew or 2, eating at least 2 cookies, and always watching Days of Our Lives. There would be a sewing project, a heated conversation due to our clashing generations, then a kiss good night. "Love you G! See you tomorrow." 

Now, Monday's are the hardest. I wake up, clean the house, do a project or 2, then go to bed. 

There are a lot of things I never thought to learn because G just knew how. For instance, making potato soup. I don't think anyone will ever be able to fill that void. Or fixing holes in jeans. I mean I can, but G just did such a better job so I would just let her do it. And, rarely growing up did you see an iron out unless for a sewing project. 

Today, Christian needed his clothes ironed and I decided I would take on the wifely duty. After all, it is Monday and G is animate about us ladies being admirable wives (she would get frustrated of the wife didn't dish her husbands plate first). That being said, I had no idea what I was doing and my husband had to teach me. 

Mondays are just the hardest. I miss my grandma too much on Mondays. I cry too much on Mondays. I again hate Mondays. 

So, I found this song after Manti. It is just kinda my song when I am to this point I guess. Every time a new line speaks to me. Tonight it is all about the candles. Mondays are the hardest. 


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