Sometimes it's difficult to believe that I'm the oldest woman in the family. How in the world did that happen? My grandmother and I still spend time together in the garden even though she's been gone for 10 years. She was right there watching me plant thornless blackberry canes this past spring. I hear her voice and feel the soft skin of her arms when I touch my own. My mom hangs over my shoulder as well. I see her every morning looking back at me as I put on my make-up. She recently helped me identify the butterfly weed seedling I planted in the vegetable garden last year. I almost pulled it, thinking it was just another stray weed. She's there too, though she passed away the day after Christmas. I wish they both had stayed long enough to teach me how to be a grandmother when my daughter gives birth in January. I guess I just have to call them in from the garden.