Curate, connect, and discover
It’s been 17 years this year since my grandma passed away, 15 since my grandpa. I was 7 and 9 respectively when I lost them. The older I get the more like a punch it feels because I’ve lived a whole live without them, I’d already lost a chunk of my support network before I was even in double digits.
What hurts the most is I can’t remember them. I can’t remember their voices, or their laughs, or things we did together. I remember the year and a half between them passing flying by but I can’t remember their laughs. I feel like I’m missing a chunk of me and I’ll never be able to get it back. I wish I’d had the chance to get to know them as people, to talk to them as an adult. I’d give anything for just an hour, I just want to know if they’d be proud of me.