You have been gone for a while now. And everyone else has continued on with their lives including me. The pain of your passing seems to have been forgotten, except it hasn’t. I don’t think it ever will.

It’s that pain that’s been shoved in one corner of the heart, waiting to be pulled back to the center. One picture. One memory. One song. That’s what it takes to trigger the pain.

I have always wanted to write about you. I’ve written about so many people, some of them not as significant in my life as you. But for some reason the words just don’t seem right.

For how can someone honor the kindest, most generous, most loving people in their life? Where do I find the words to describe the feeling that I have when I think of you? How do I give justice to recognition that’s due you?

Today, I want to try. I want to say what’s on my mind. Today I’m choosing to just do it. Because I know, even in plain words, as long as it is from my heart, you’ll be glad.

Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me and my siblings as if we were your own. Thank you for changing our lives by being in it the rest of yours. Thank you for showing us your love every chance you got.

Thank you for giving me the honor to have come from such great people. Thank you for giving me the chance to have your last name as a part of mine. Thank you for the pride my roots bring.

I know, I don’t have to say all these because you already know. I know, I do not have to ask that question people ask their loved one who have passed. The question that is, “Do I make you proud?” Deep in my heart, I have always known the answer to that. Knowing the heart that you had, I am sure, no matter how small my accomplishments are, no matter how slow my pace is, you will always be beaming with pride, looking down from heaven, telling all your angel-buddies there, “That is my granddaughter!” Because that’s just the kind of grandparents you were. And today I’m telling everyone who reads this, these are my grandparents. And I am proud.