***
My Grandma raised me alone. She never treated me as if I were fragile, despite my inability to walk. I never let myself feel sorry for what I’d lost, continued living, and never complained.
By the time senior year rolled around and prom came up, I wanted to go.
Not because I expected anything big to happen. I just didn’t want to sit at home wondering what it would’ve been like.
I never let myself feel sorry.
***
Grandma and I went dress shopping two weeks before. She pushed me through every aisle as if it were the most important mission of her life.
“You’re not settling,” she said, holding up a navy blue dress. “You’re picking something that makes you feel like yourself.”
I rolled my eyes, but I listened.
I chose a simple dress. Something that felt right.
