Ginny Miller sat on her bed, her laptop perched on her knees as she attempted to work on a school paper. The screen was open to a blank document, the cursor blinking at her mockingly. It wasn't that she didn't have anything to write—it was that her mind was a million miles away, lost in memories of her grandmother, Maddie, who had passed away when Ginny was younger. The grief was a quiet undercurrent in her life, always there but never spoken about. Her mom, Georgia, rarely brought Maddie up, and Ginny found herself reluctant to ask.
The lyrics from Taylor Swift's "marjorie" floated through her mind: "What died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive in my head." Maddie was alive in Ginny's head, a constant presence even years after she was gone. She had been a powerful woman—someone Ginny looked up to—and sometimes, Ginny wondered if her mom had inherited more of Maddie's fire than she let on.
As if on cue, Georgia poked her head into Ginny's room, her hair in perfect curls and a mischievous grin on her face. "Ginny, honey, I've got a plan."
Ginny sighed, closing her laptop and giving her mom a weary look. "What kind of plan? Please tell me it doesn't involve a sudden road trip to Vegas."
Georgia strolled into the room, sitting down on the edge of Ginny's bed. "No Vegas this time, kiddo. It's more of a... celebration. I'm throwing a little dinner party in honor of your grandmother."
Ginny blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Since when do we do things like that?"
Georgia's expression softened, and for a moment, Ginny saw a flicker of something deeper in her mom's eyes. "We don't, but I was thinking... maybe we should. Your grandma deserves to be remembered, don't you think?"
Ginny nodded, though she felt a pang of sadness. "Yeah, she does. It's just... I don't know. It feels weird. We never talk about her."
Georgia sighed, her playful energy deflating slightly. "I know, and that's on me. It's hard, Gin. Losing someone like Maddie... it changes you. But I've been thinking about her a lot lately, and I think it's time we honor her the way she would've wanted."
Ginny's heart tightened, and she gave her mom a small smile. "Okay. A dinner party for Grandma Maddie. I'm in."
The next few days were a whirlwind of preparations. Georgia, as usual, took control of the situation with her typical flair. She transformed their small kitchen into something that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a Martha Stewart magazine, complete with fancy table settings and candles that smelled like vanilla and nostalgia. Ginny tried to help, but she mostly found herself watching her mom, amazed at how easily Georgia could switch from over-the-top dramatic to deeply sentimental.
One afternoon, while Ginny was helping set up the dining room, she noticed Georgia staring at an old photo of Maddie that she had placed in the center of the table. It was a black-and-white picture, Maddie laughing with that same mischievous grin Georgia always wore.
"You miss her, don't you?" Ginny asked softly, breaking the silence.
Georgia blinked, as if pulled out of a memory, and nodded. "Every day. She was a force, your grandma. Strong, smart, tough as nails. And a bit of a drama queen, but I guess you could say that runs in the family."
Ginny smiled, but there was a heaviness in her chest. "I wish I'd known her better. I mean, I was young, but I remember bits and pieces. She was always so... larger than life."
Georgia's expression softened, and she sat down at the table, gesturing for Ginny to join her. "You were so young, but she adored you. I wish she'd been around longer, but life had other plans."
Ginny sat down across from her mom, feeling a lump form in her throat. "Sometimes, I think about the stuff she used to tell me, and I'm scared I'll forget."
Georgia reached across the table, taking Ginny's hand. "You won't forget, honey. She's in you, whether you realize it or not. The way you stand up for yourself, the way you're fiercely loyal to your friends—that's all Maddie."
Ginny swallowed hard, her eyes welling up with tears. "I just... I wish she were here. To see me grow up. To see who I've become."
Georgia squeezed her hand, her voice soft but firm. "She is here, Ginny. She's always with you."
The lyrics from "marjorie" echoed in Ginny's mind again: "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around..." She closed her eyes, imagining her grandmother sitting with them at the table, her laugh filling the room, her presence as strong as ever.
That evening, the dinner party went off without a hitch—well, as much as a dinner party in the Miller household could. Georgia had invited a small group of close friends, and they all gathered around the table, sharing stories about Maddie. There was laughter, tears, and a sense of warmth that filled the room. For the first time in a long time, Ginny felt like she was connected to her grandmother in a way she hadn't before.
As the night wound down and the guests left, Ginny found herself sitting on the porch with Georgia, the cool evening air wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. The stars were bright above, and the world felt still.
"Thanks for doing this, Mom," Ginny said, her voice quiet but sincere.
Georgia smiled, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "It was the least I could do. Maddie would've loved it. She always said life should be a celebration."
Ginny chuckled softly. "She was definitely one of a kind."
Georgia nodded, leaning back against the porch railing. "That she was. I just hope I'm living up to her legacy."
Ginny looked at her mom, surprised. "What are you talking about? You're amazing, Mom. You do so much for me, for Austin... for everyone. Grandma would be proud."
Georgia's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked down at her hands. "I don't always feel amazing, Gin. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just making it up as I go."
Ginny reached out, placing a hand on her mom's shoulder. "We all are. But you're doing a pretty damn good job."
Georgia laughed, though there was a trace of emotion in her voice. "Well, that's good to hear. Because sometimes I think Maddie's looking down at me and shaking her head."
Ginny shook her head, smiling. "No way. She's looking down at you and cheering you on. I know she is."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of crickets filling the air. Ginny felt a strange sense of peace, as if her grandmother really was with them in that moment. She thought about all the things Maddie had taught her, all the ways she had shaped who Ginny was without even realizing it.
"Mom," Ginny said after a long pause, her voice soft. "What do you remember most about Grandma?"
Georgia tilted her head back, thinking for a moment before she spoke. "I remember how strong she was. She never backed down from anything, no matter how hard it was. She taught me to fight for what I believe in, to never let anyone tell me I wasn't enough."
Ginny smiled, her heart swelling with pride. "You definitely got that from her."
Georgia chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I did. But she also taught me that it's okay to be vulnerable. To let people in. That's something I'm still working on."
Ginny glanced at her mom, surprised by the admission. Georgia rarely let her guard down, always putting on a brave face no matter what. But in this moment, Ginny could see the cracks—the parts of her mom that were still healing, still figuring things out.
"You're doing just fine, Mom," Ginny said softly. "You don't have to be perfect."
Georgia looked at her, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Ginny. I needed to hear that."
They sat together for a while longer, the night stretching on around them. And as Ginny leaned her head against her mom's shoulder, she felt a sense of connection—not just to Georgia, but to Maddie, too. It was as if the three of them were together, bound by love, strength, and the memories that would never fade.
The lyrics from "marjorie" played softly in Ginny's mind, like a lullaby: "I should've asked you questions, I should've asked you how to be... I should've kept every grocery store receipt." She knew there were things she would never get to ask her grandmother, but in a way, Maddie had already given her all the answers she needed. They were inside her, guiding her every step of the way.
As the stars twinkled above, Ginny closed her eyes and smiled.
