It once said, “It's crazy how you can go months without talking to someone, but they still cross your mind every day.”

This quote means a lot to me, because it's true in my case. Whenever I have a dilemma or conflict, I still ask myself, what would grandma do?

It's been seven years, and I can't forget the Saturday my family and I moved to John's Creek, Georgia from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. We had just closed the deal for our new home and were excited. My grandparents came to see the house; they ate it up. They were in love with it. Since then, they have come very often. However, there was one weekend in January when they did not come because they were stuck in Virginia with my cousins. Because they did not come, we decided to buy some furniture for our new house. We went to three different stores until, after a whole day’s worth of scouting, we found the perfect dining room table.

However, on that very same day, something terrible happened. The day was too beautiful to be perfect. And that's when my dad’s phone rang. It was his brother.

“Hello?”

On the other end, there was a pause, and my dad could hear his brother's muffled voice. His brother was crying, and the words he uttered hardly made sense. Then, he realized something was wrong but did not have the heart to ask what. Finally, a few words stood out from the rest.

“Mom's in the hospital.”

The car came to a complete stop, and my mom looked at my dad and knew something was wrong. He mumbled something to her quietly. My sister and I could believe hardly it. We sat in stunned silence, watching my mom vigorously text her friend to book our tickets for the first flight to Pittsburgh.

We reached home a half and hour later, and my mom went straight upstairs to pack. That's when I asked her, “Mom, what is wrong?”

She answered, “Grandma is in the hospital.”

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By that point, I was speechless, but I didn't cry because I had to be strong for my mom, my dad and my sister. The reality was, I was devastated.

My grandma was my best friend.

Whenever she would visit, she would play with me. She was my shoulder to cry on and someone who would lend me a listening ear. I tried to control my feelings as I calmly asked my mom, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No,” she whispered sadly. It was too late.

Within 20 minutes, we were out of the house to hop onto the plane to Pittsburgh. However, by the time we reached my grandparents’ house where everyone was gathered, we learned grandma had died on Jan. 13. My grandma, having been one of the fittest people I knew, died young because of a heart attack. She was an extraordinary woman who taught me to always believe in myself and to always think positively. My grandma inspired me to be exceptional and never showed any sign of weakness. I will never forget the last words she ever spoke to me: “Oneeka, be happy, and do not let anyone pull you down because you are unique in your way.”

The next day we had her funeral, and everyone was silent. The funeral lasted the whole day, with many people giving speeches and singing songs for her, but I could not bring myself to say anything because I was still flabbergasted.

After the funeral, my grandpa told us of her perseverance and her courage to always remain true to herself 'til the end. My grandma’s death was a difficult hurdle for me to face, but since then, whenever I have a problem or need help, her strength still gives me a sense of direction. With that strength, I overcome the obstacle.

Ever since that year, we go to the temple and pay our respects to her every Jan. 30, and I take out time to pay respect to her every day. Sometimes, I look at the sky and ask her a question, and she always answers. And when faced with difficulties, I still think of her and what she would do in the situations I stumble across. She was not just one of those grandparents who fed me dessert. She was one that took me places and taught me lessons that shaped me into the person I am today. My grandma is always there for me; she has never left.