In God’s dictionary, there is something so delicate, yet under-appreciated, that until it’s gone only then do most of us find its true value. Life.

In these troubling times, many of us experienced the pain of loss, the kind of pain that wakes us up at night and tortures us in our sleep.

Then there is the pain of thinking, “I could have done more,” or “What if?” Maybe you wish you were at a hospital where your loved one is alone, or maybe there was a car crash, and they’re trying to hold on to the little strength they have left, or perhaps a failing heart. There are many storms that can claim the body.

When we later place them underground, or spread them amongst the Earth with tears and anguish in our eyes, we must not cry, for they are not truly gone. Only their body and earthly state has faded, never will their spirits fade. As long as we are here we must share their stories and tell their tales, keeping them alive on Earth.

My grandma tried new things, no matter the doubts in herself she may have felt. She would always try, and even if she thought poorly of her work, she would try again. My grandmother was extraordinary, with adventure running through her veins. My father tells me she once worked on a fishing boat in Alaska. She was also hard-headed; sometimes I wonder if that’s where I and my dad get it from. She loved to do crafts with me and my many cousins. Somehow she remembered all of our names, and which cousin was which.

She was up to trying everything, like new foods, new experiences, and different lifestyles. If she was feeling spontaneous, she would do something crazy. When she first moved in with us she was not accustomed to the high elevation. The doctors said she would have to adjust for maybe a couple months. Two more weeks and she would most likely be ready to do some more things that would let her move around the house. So what did she do? She got up and rolled her walker outside!

She especially had a sweet tooth. She was funny. Almost every time I walked in her room it was, “Can you help me find my glasses sweetheart?”

I wish my grandma was still physically here, but I must cope with her watching me rather than the other way around. When my time comes and I go, we will be laughing at funny cat videos together, and thinking of how many times I can fall in a gap between the back door and the steps. I will not say goodbye, just see you soon.

Dedicated to Judith Anne Kirchdorfer
1912 – 2021