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Remembering Grandma: A Tribute to Love and Loss

Updated: Apr 5

Today, I want to dedicate this blog to my Grandma. When I was young, she was my rock,

the one I turned to when life felt overwhelming. I can still vividly recall the warmth of her kitchen on Thanksgiving, as she tirelessly cooked her famous homemade noodles. Despite her strict demeanor, she exuded kindness and grace, a beacon of love in our family.

My Grandma was a vision of beauty with her fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes that sparkled like crystals. She had a knack for lifting your spirits, even in the darkest of times. Visiting her house was always a joyous occasion, filled with laughter and cherished memories.

The reason I felt compelled to write about her today is because she passed away this month, eighteen years ago. Tomorrow, February 16th, marks the anniversary of her passing in 2002. The last time I spoke to her was on Valentine's Day, just two days before she left us. Her departure not only shattered my heart, but it also changed my perspective on Valentine's Day forever.

Losing Grandma left an unhealed wound in my heart, one that still aches to this day. February has become a month of sorrow for me, as it marks the passing of not only my Grandma but also my Grandpa in 2012 and my aunt Pam in 2016. However, it's Grandma's absence that weighs heaviest on my soul, haunting me since the day we last spoke.

I remember the day she passed vividly—my entire family gathered around her, but no one thought to call me until after she was gone. I was at work, oblivious to the tragedy unfolding at home. When I finally received the news, it was delivered callously by my ex-husband, who allowed me to finish my shift before informing me of her passing.

Returning home, I was numb with shock, cradling my infant son in my arms as the weight of her loss settled in. At her funeral, I felt the full force of my grief as I gazed upon her lifeless form, unable to comprehend that she was truly gone. It was a day etched in sorrow, a stark reminder of the fragility of life.

Eighteen years have passed, but the pain of not saying goodbye still lingers. My heart aches for the chance to tell her one last time how much she meant to me. Until that day comes, I'll hold her memory close, honoring her legacy with each passing day.

Until next time,

Blessed be.


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