RIP Bà ngoại

I spent the last month reflecting on the life of my last living grandparent. As I sit down and write this, I am overwhelmed with a myriad of memories that span throughout my childhood. From my earliest days, my grandmother always enveloped me with warmth. Her place was a sanctuary filled with the aroma of freshly made dishes and her hand knit items that she would gift to me whenever I visited her. My brother and I would spend the afternoons at her place where she would always prepare a nice meal for us after school. Each dish was not just a meal, but a connection to our heritage, rich with tradition and love.

She had a way of making her grandchildren feel special. Whether it was knitting a hat for a grandchild or offering to listen to us, she offered her warmth to us. I felt a kindness and compassion from her that maybe she was not able to share with anyone else.

As time passed, I watched her age with severe difficulty dealing with dementia. As her body grew frailer, I could tell her spirit was still strong. In her last months, I visited her every week with my mom at her nursing home to make sure that she was cared for in the best way possible. I realized watching her go through her difficult moments that joy could exist even in the toughest times. As I honor her memory, I am filled with gratitude for the time spent with her as a child to now. She showed me that life is not about the big milestones, but also about the everyday moments that shape our existence. I carry her legacy with me and I will always remember her and the indelible mark she left on my soul.

She may be gone from this world, but her love will continue to guide me for all my days to come.