Our intern Regan made my day. She brought me flowers because I’ve had a tough few weeks and she thought I could use some cheering up. She’s amazing.

So, I thought I’d try to make YOUR day too, by sharing my pretty petals with you.

(P.S. it’s AWESOME having an intern named Regan. Whenever someone trys to blame anything on me, I’m just like oh, you must mean REGAN, not MEGHAN! haha! works 1/100th of time.)

My coworker just sent out The Coolist’s compilation of 10 Amazing Offices Around World. These are nuts. Per usual, they are primarily in Europe and abroad.

Some of these are insane, yes, but I seriously think our office is at least on par with many of them! I’m not even being biased, promise.

Scenes from Moving: Really nice friends with trucks are awesome. Really nice friends with trucks that move you in, fix cracks in your wall, and accept beer as payment are INCREDIBLE.

Scenes from Moving: Tues. & Wed. consisted of no makeup, bad hair, sweatpants, McDonald’s coffee, Sam Octoberfest, and wayyyy too many coats of no-VOC, eco-friendly, “Butterfly Wing” gold paint.

Oh, and eating Subway.

Scenes from moving: My stupid couch would. not. fit. in the doorway of our new apartment. We took out the windows, storm windows, doors, and anything else you can think of, but a modern massive couch is no match for doorways built in 1925, when people (and furniture) were wee. (Landlord said “no.” to our idea to do some minor open concept remodeling. bummer.)

I know in this photo my couch looks whack and faded, but trust that in real life this couch is THE BOMB and is so pretty and big and AWESOME that my roomie and I legit contemplated having a funeral for it when we had to subject it to the gamble that is Craigslist.

So, for three days, while we searched till the ends of the internets for the perfect home, it sat on our new porch (gorg, no?) and we played frat house, chillin’ on the couch swiggin Sam Adams while our living room paint dried. Landlord was pleased, for sure, when it found a new home.

Now we have a new designer leather couch that looks fab. But it’s cold, small, and not purple.

Sad.

Last week (and this week) was a hard week. One of my most confusing, challenging, emotional weeks, ever.

My grandfather passed away. My mom’s dad. My gentle, kind, loving, young, grandfather, passed away less then a month after being diagnosed with Lou Gerig’s disease (ALS).

I didn’t understand. I don’t understand. Death doesn’t make sense to me. I haven’t lost anyone this close to me before. Someone that has inspired, touched, influenced me, the way that Grandpa Gilmore did.

It’s been a tough few years. Divorce, anger, bitterness, and broken families are all disappointments that I still struggle with that I’ve never really mentioned here on my blog.

The last time I saw my Grandfather, only a few weeks ago at their 50th anniversary party, he instilled a sense of peace in me that I haven’t felt in years. The words that he shared with me allowed me to make peace with the tumultuous uncontrollable issues I’ve tried to come to terms with since forever, really.

I think he knew. He knew what a terrible disease ALS is and he knew that he wanted to leave this world with peace and contentment. And he did. He celebrated his 50th anniversary with my grandmother with over 150 friends and family four weeks ago. Two weeks ago my aunt married her love Kippy, with my grandfather by her side. Days ago, he tied up financial and personal matters to make sure my grandma, at only 69 years old, would live the rest of her life free of worry.

And then quietly, and peacefully, he moved on.

I didn’t go to Maine for the wake, or the funeral. I felt at peace. I couldn’t understand the idea of seeing him, not really there, but physically there. I just don’t understand. But I made the right decision for me, and I was with him, and my family, through everything, regardless of where I was physically.

But what I do understand, that I’m not sure I understood before my grandfather left us, is the strength of my family.

I now understand that one person, with very few words, can make an impact on your life so profound that it can put to rest years of uncertainty.

I now understand, Grandpa, that family love, real family love, knows no boundaries or alliances or rules or circumstances. It is constant and genuine and real. And I understand that our family has that kind love. You filled our lives with years of unlimited adoration and compassion.

And I will never forget that. You taught me, Grandpa, that family, real family, is unshakable. And Grandpa, you changed my life.

Every day, I will feel the joy and love that you shared with me. Always.

I love you.

And I will miss you forever.

May you continue onward in a universe none of us can yet understand, filled with the same peace, love, and joy that you radiated upon each and every person that was lucky enough to know you.

Each and every ounce of my love,

Your granddaughter