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Mormor. If I could just turn back time, I would come and sit at your table. I would share a Swedish fika with you and I would listen to your heart. It was so beautiful. Mormor, my very own dearest grandmother. You loved your maker more than anyone I have ever met. Your heart was so full of love. You bled for the things that mattered, and you never let that bleeding dissuade you. You had so much love to give, so much that you let it bleed generously. Mormor. I miss you more than words can say.

Mamma. If you only knew what I would give for another chat in my father’s bed next to you. If you only knew what I would pay for one moment with you again. You fought so bravely. Your heart was so pure. You gave life your all. You paid every price. And never blamed your maker. You had faults, but you stood through them. You had battles, but you rose to them. You always put the good of others first. You inspired us all. You worked harder than any person I have ever met. And you bled with pain.

My heart breaks missing you. My heart breaks needing you. My heart breaks knowing I can only carry your legacy forward; yet I must wait years until meet you again.

My heart breaks.

It breaks.

And it breaks again.

For love, there is no remidy.