In the beginning of this summer, in June, I experienced something I had never felt before. A few months ahead, my grandpa had been sick. He would stay for a few days in his house, then he wouldn't feel well and go to the hospital, then stay there. My dad provided all these things to my grandpa, helping him get treated the best way. However, at one point it was too much; he had been in the hospital in a very weak condition for weeks. He could barely open his small, blue eyes, and couldn’t speak at all. So, one night my mom and dad decided to bring him home. Just as he saw he was in his home, he opened his eyes wide, shook his legs, and gave his last breath.  

I was at home with my grandma from my mom’s side. My dad came home at midnight and grabbed some black clothes. He told me the heartbreaking news, and we both started bawling our eyes out. As he was crying, he said, “We should be strong, that’s how he wants us to be.” The next day, June 11th, the funeral was held. It was a very sad day; the weather was awful with lots of heavy rainfall. Many of our friends and family went to the cemetery, but I did not go. I did not feel as I was ready to see my grandpa in the graveyard and burst into tears. My mom thought that was best for me, since it isn’t such a children-friendly environment after all.  
The following days and weeks were hard. I would go meet my grandma, try to tell her stories, how I had done in school, just to take her mind off the sadness, but she was very downhearted and would cry very often. When I saw her crying, I started crying too. I felt so bad for her. From all the people, I felt worst about my grandma, she had lost the love of her life, and would now live alone. Still, I tried to stay strong and help her become too. 

 
After a month passed or two, the situation got better. My grandma wasn’t feeling down all the time, I would see her laugh and smile, and that made my heart so cheerful. We always mentioned grandpa, but we didn’t start crying, instead, we used memories to bring him back to us, which made us happy and joyful.  

When I visited their home, we binged on the chocolates the three of us always ate together. My grandma and I went on the couch and watched all the cartoons and TV shows that reminded us of him. We thought back of the days when I was little, when I loved dancing, and I would wonder all over their house, moving in flowy circles like a ballerina, wearing my pink tutu. My grandpa was my number one supporter and would always come to cheer me at my dance shows.  

I hadn't realized how much I actually loved him, until we lost him. I will always remember the advice he gave me. He knew how good and productive I was with my school since first grade, and always told me, “Teach your brother too, become his role model.” He was so concerned about my education and always wanted me to go to the best schools. “I only want to live to see my niece’s successes and see her grow into a beautiful young lady,” he would say.  

As I look back to all these things now, I get emotional, and maybe shed a few tears, but I’ve grown and am stronger now. That’s just how life is, we go through loss. Life goes on, and we keep on going, but we always hold on to the memories. As one of my favorite quotes from Mitch Albom says, “Death ends a life, not a relationship.”