Grief is relentless. One day, you’re perfectly fine; the longing and the hurt are still there, but not overwhelming. Other days, it crashes in like a tidal wave; all-consuming, the hurt sitting as a lump in your throat.

I have been fortunate enough to not have experienced loss as often as others. But I have lost my grandmother. As of November 26, 2023, it’s been ten years since she was on this earth. I don’t know that I have ever loved or connected with someone so deeply. While I have a bit of selfish joy in being the first grandchild, I’ve always felt that our connection was different.

She was the most amazing woman and easily the best grandma. She was not perfect and endured a lifetime full of struggles, but her wisdom and her heart to continue fighting made such an impact on me. Despite a 48-year age gap, I always felt seen and heard. So often people forget that very young children are in tune with the emotions that they have not yet identified. I could feel her joy. I could feel her hurt. In spite of the fact that I couldn’t articulate it at 2-3 years old, I understood it as well as a toddler could. Her joy was my joy, her pain was my pain.

This was the woman who taught me to read and how to love unapologetically. Even when we were miles apart, she sent me books she thought I would like and journals to encourage my writing.  I hope that she knows how much I appreciate that; I will be forever grateful for fostering the love of my passions.

Whether we were thousands of miles apart or right next door, my grandmother was always in tune with my emotions. While we celebrated my accomplishments out loud and with the rest of our family, she always knew when I wasn’t at my best.

My mom and I moved away when I was three years old, but somehow, she knew that I would love writing and reading. I have never been more grateful that she offered me an escape through the novels she sent me and encouraged my writing through the beautiful journals she sent.

I will miss her every day for the rest of my life. I know that she no longer hurts, but there is nothing I wouldn’t do for a few more moments with her.

I would implore all of you to extend kindness this holiday season. Ideally, everyone would be kind all the time but alas. The person you’re interacting with may be without the person that was a major part of their world, and the omnipresent grief may consume them. Aim to be a light for someone else. And if you are working through your grief, I send you loving and healing energy, but also the belief that you should exude the traits of the person you miss so dearly.

To my grandma: I love you. I thank you. I won’t stop missing you until I see you again. Rest well.

In loving memory of Barbara Jeanette Smith 1947-2013