Dear Grandma,

Words can never describe how difficult it was to lose you. To feel the anger, the sadness, the unfairness of it all. It hurts. Everything hurts. All the time. Every sunset and sunrise since, reminds me of you. How I did everything I could to make it easier for you. How at night, I prayed to some power from above to take away your pain.

And how helpless I felt through it all.

I never really got to know you, the language barrier was too great for that, and it will be the hardest thing to forgive myself for. I should have learned the language, I should have tried harder. But then again, I didn’t think I’d lose you so soon. I thought we’d have time. Clearly, time is not on anyone’s side. Despite the very limited conversations we may have had, I could feel your love. Your warmth. The support. Someone I could always count on to be there. I remember seeing the pride reflected in your eyes when I got my driver’s license, or when I did well in school. That pride never wavered. You were the one thing I could count on to never change. To be the same, strong and unyielding rock that I needed in my life.

I’m angry and frustrated that you’ll never get to see me grow up as an adult. That you won’t be there to celebrate the next milestones. That you’ll never get to meet the love of my life, the people that make me the happiest I have ever been. But I will be eternally grateful for all that you got to see and experience. How you got to see the world, and how good of a life you were given alongside grandpa.

The way you led your life with grace, kindness, humor, and love, is something I will always carry with me throughout every adventure that comes next.

So, then. How do you say goodbye to someone who’s been there your whole life?

—

† April 20, 1943 - April 9, 2022