The “news” frightened me. I didn’t know that a person could feel so confused but so miserable all at the same time. It was a bright, sunny day that rapidly turned into a gloomy, dull night. I remember running to my mom’s car after school as fast as I could to hear the “news” assuming it would engrave a huge smile on my face after a long and tiring day. However, as I stepped into the car, I immediately noticed that my mom’s eyes were swollen and watery. “Mom guess what I got on my math tes-Whoa mom, are you okay?” I asked curiously as I stared at my mom’s puffy eyes, hesitantly waiting for an answer. This was when the “news” hit me like a strong, gust of wind in a hurricane. Instantly I remembered the last time I had seen my grandma.
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The emerald, green palm trees swayed to the rhythm of continuously honking cars as the California breeze greeted me while I stepped out of the doors of LAX. The atmosphere of the West Coast was different in a simplistic way; the weather, the thin, crisp air, and the people were incomparable to the elements that made up the East Coast. As I tried to absorb everything and everyone around me, I spotted my grandma and grandpa at the corner of my eye, excitedly waving their hands back and forth. I immediately knew that they were my grandparents, even though I hadn’t seen them for more than seven years. I ran to them quickly as my oversized, purple backpack shifted from side to side. As I gave them a big, warm hug, I could feel their delicate wrinkles and soft hands against my skin. The smell of Korean pancakes drifted from their clothes, lingering in and out my nose. As my grandpa offered to carry my backpack to the car, I assured him that it would be too heavy for his weak back. We continued to argue playfully until we reached the car.
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As we quietly drove out of the busy and crowded streets of Los Angeles, I could see the different shades of pink, yellow, and orange painted in pastel across the limitless sky. Although it was mid afternoon, we successfully avoided the LA traffic, hearing less honks and people cursing out their windows than we had heard at the airport parking lot. “Mom, when are we going to Noah’s house?” I whispered hoping not to wake up my sleep deprived sister.
My mom answered diffidently, “We’re not. We are staying at grandma and grandpa’s house.” My mouth flew open into a big “O” as I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mother’s mouth. Grandma, grandpa, house, two weeks?! This was not how I envisioned my trip to California. I wanted to go shopping on Rodeo Drive, ride roller coasters on the boardwalk, go scuba diving, casually run into famous celebrities, and everything else a teenage girl would want to experience in California. However, I had to spend the entire vacation with my grandparents. All my plans I thought out in my head on the six hour flight went down the drain. I knew that I was going to have the worst time of my life. I just knew it.



As we arrived at my grandparents little apartment in a small town, miles and miles away from the animated city, they welcomed us into their dainty home. “Welcome to our apartment!” exclaimed my grandpa in his Korean accent as he reassured us that his home was ours as well. I allowed my eyes to glace around the apartment, trying not to express my disapproval of being at my grandparents’ home. I slapped on a fake, artificial smile as I pretended to be enjoying my time in California. Although the journey had just begun, I couldn’t wait until I was back on the plane to return home.



Seconds, minutes, hours, and days passed by as I refused to interact with my grandparents. I exchanged a few “Good Mornings” and “How are you today” every once in a while. Sometimes on days that I didn’t feel lazy or upset, I asked them about their day and what they had done. On other days, I sat on the couch, watching nothing but the news since my grandparents did not have cable. At times, I imagined myself having different grandparents. I have always heard stories from my friends about how their grandma or grandpa took them to the mall or went to see a thrilling movie together. With my grandparents, all I did was watch the news and eat meals with them. We never went to any fun or amusing places together, or created long lasting memories. It seemed to me that two weeks would go by very slowly. Whether I realized it or not, it was already time to leave.



As I lined up our suitcases by the door in height order, my grandparents had a doleful look on their faces. I could tell that they would have no problem with us staying with them forever, if we wanted to. There was an utter silence that lasted for about five minutes, until the honk of our taxi broke the laconism. We all just stared at each other as my mom and sister started to tear up. I, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to hop into the taxi. As we all hugged and said our goodbyes, I didn’t realize that that moment could perhaps be the last time together, with everyone present.
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“Your grandmother has cancer,” my mother stated soberly in the car as I as the news took me by surprise. It was right after school had ended and this was the so called “news” that kept me awake in class the whole day. Instantly, in my mind, I tried skimming throughout my vacation in California for special memories with my grandparents. However, there were none to be found. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. Was I dreaming a terrible dream or was this happening for a specific reason? I became angry and disappointed with myself for taking lightly all the precious time I had to spend with my grandma. How could I have been so stupid, so immature, and so selfish to only think about what I wanted to do? I was so caught up with what my heart desired that I didn’t realize the importance of not taking time for granted. For that, I know that I will always feel guilt, which I will never be able to forget. Furthermore, Jim Rohn once said, "Time is more valuable than money; you can get more money, but you cannot get more time." Something like time seems to be assured and irrevocable, but if one loses the chance to cherish a moment, one can never go back to revisit a memory. If I learned one thing from my trip to California, it would be the importance of cherishing and savoring every single moment because I will never ever be able to go back and spend more time with my grandma. Even though I still talk to my grandparents on the phone, I know in my heart that it just will never be the same.