We were coming home from a campout our boy scout troop hosted, and my mother was driving us home. My mom’s phone rang, as she picked up her phone. And it was our grandma calling us. Tears streamed down my moms face. On speaker phone, my brothers and I heard every word our grandma said. She said in the saddest slowest tone you could imagine, “爺爺過世了.” On our car ride to our grandma’s house, tears kept streaking down my moms face. When we arrived we prayed for our grandpa. And everyone was in tears, it was a feeling I never felt before.

 After my grandpa’s passing, it felt like a fever dream to me. I felt like whenever I went to my grandma’s house it just wasn’t the same. He would always be there, if he was awake to greet us with a warm hello. And if we were to even go walking around their neighborhood he would make sure we always had money to buy items. But as his symptoms got worse and worse. We thought we still had a few months with him. But he passed within a month

But I think this tragic event affected my grandmother the most. She told us a story(in Chinese) when we went to her house she said, “When he was alive, [She] felt like he was a burdance, she would cook for him, he would eat for an hour and he would go back to sleep.” It was until she saw him on his bed laying still, that she realized those moments she had with him that she didn’t cherish were gone. We all did our best to comfort her, but nothing could fill the empty gap in her heart of her beloved husband. She cried while telling us this story. We visited her often, hearing more stories about her beloved husband. 

A month ago on September, it was his 1 year death anniversary. And I know that no matter what he is doing right now, or what we're doing right now. He will always be thinking about us, and we will be thinking about him.