A few years ago, my maternal grandmother Marguerite tragically passed away. She was 95 years old. We were incredibly close, and I was very devastated when I heard of her passing. I wish to dedicate this essay, in its entirety, to her.

         From the moment I came into this world, my grandmother was there to support and nurture me. From baking cookies, to watching Jeopardy, and playing Monopoly, we did everything together. We built puzzles. We played cards. We enjoyed microwave popcorn while watching movies. She would always joke that she was “cold-blooded” compared to me, and would always marvel how I could go barefoot inside or venture outside without a sweater.

         She would visit us in Ventura all the time. The guest room was always reserved for her. She would make some tasteful comment about my father’s barbecued salmon, or regale us with information about her past. For instance, her favorite president was FDR. She lived through the Great Depression and World War II.

         Her ancestry and family were always important to her. This is why I used the money she gave me for my twenty-sixth birthday to purchase an ancestry DNA testing kit. I thought that that would have been something she would have wanted. Shortly after I sent my sample in, I received the results. Grandma even gave me a tasteful card, containing her nearly perfect handwriting, and I could not help but tear up after re-reading it shortly after she passed. My dad also read it at the time, and was crying.

 During this time, I made a crucial realization. Sometimes, it can be hard to tell how much you love someone until you lose them. And my misery was commensurate. I was in so much pain after she left us, and cried on-and-off all the time during those horrific days.

          Shortly after all this happened, I came to realize that there was something called the “Stages of Grief.” This can include sadness, anger, bargaining, and, finally, acceptance. At first, after having heard of her passing, I was incredibly sad and upset. Then I started to get angry. HOW DARE someone take her from me like this. Then, bargaining: “I would have done anything to save her life.” Every little thing triggered me. The tiniest, most minute things would remind me of her. I reviewed all of our text messages. I looked at the aforementioned card. I made microwave popcorn, in honor of her.

         Finally, I was able to reach the stage of acceptance. Every time I look at her picture or think of her, I get this warm feeling in my stomach, and think about how fortunate was I to have even known her. She had this framed picture on her dresser, of her and me at her house on Country Club Drive. After she passed, I requested it. It is now sitting on the end-table near my bed.

         Even though I am not a religious person, I like to think that she is looking down on me, and smiling. I am incredibly fortunate because I was one of the last people to talk to her before she went into a coma. I heard her respond to me on the phone, and after I hung up, I cried.

         My grandma was an incredibly loving person. She passed with all her current living daughters at her side, each telling her how much she loved her. I wrote her a letter, and as things progressed, I am told that she insisted on keeping it by her side at all times. I will treasure every moment I ever spent with her, and she gave me so many memories that no one can ever take away.

         My grandmother was the most selfless person you could have ever met. She always put others, and especially the members of her family, first. She would always, bravely and classily, lose to me at Monopoly. It was family tradition that I would always win. If I could be fortunate enough to have her back for just one day, I would request that we play Monopoly together a final time. In fact, I would even let her win.

         The sweater that I am wearing today, as I write this, was purchased for me by my grandma. I wear it all the time, and it never fails to remind me of her. She was always so doting, and always so caring. I am incredibly fortunate to have had the time with her that I did. One day, I will tell my kids about her, and how truly exceptional and loving she surely was.

         To conclude, I just want to thank everyone for empathizing with me by reading this essay. This topic was incredibly challenging for me right after she passed, and can still be triggering even today. I just wanted to try to share some of my feelings with you all tonight, and to paint a picture of how loving and awesome my grandmother truly was. Thank you, dear reader, for joining me in this reminiscence today.