I shared my love to someone else

I miss my gramma.
I have been thinking about her lately. When she died, how she died, the day she died. Now i think it's a little bit funny when i looked at the sky the afternoon we buried her with gregorian music guessing that it would rain since i usually saw scenes of burrying dead people on rainy days on tv. What a generalization.
I still remember my gramma, that's for real.
I always have been a big girl, literaly. I was the tallest girl in my class in kindergarten and i still remember my gramma wearing kebaya carrying me up on her back while she walked along malioboro street. If you've been to malioboro and you know what kebaya is, then you can imagine how difficult it must had been for her to do so.
I still remember having her carrying my lunch box outside my class's window and waited for me to finish school.
I still remember how i whined for her to tell stories at nights when i couldn't slept. I remember exactly how she told me stories with her eyes closed, sleepy, tired...and i woke her up to tell me more stories over and over again.
I remember when i saw her slept on my late grandpa's chair with her mouth opened and i would put some salt on her tounge to wake her up.
I remember each morning on my kindergarten days when she bought me 5 bubble gums and made me a glass of coffee to get me out of bed to go to school.
I also remember every single birthday that i have had with her giving me "nasi kuning" while my mom already bought me birthday cake and i always ate it because she was a great cook.
My mother always gave her some money every month and i will never forget when my gramma gave me allowances every month, secretly from my mother. And i cannot forget when i always accepted it although i knew she needed it badly, more than i did.
I remember when i brushed her false teeth and bathed her when she was ill. I felt that it was annoying and frustrating but i never thought that she probably never felt annoyed or frustrated of taking care of me.
I never told my gramma that i loved her and now i tell somebody else's gramma (although she's my boyfriend's but she's still somebody else's..) that i love her every time i talk to her on the phone or every time i write her letters.
And i feel guilty sharing the love that i should have given to one of the remarkable women i have ever known in my life.
And if i could turn back time, i would tell her i love her.