Last Sunday, as I was taking the bus down to church, I received a text from my mother that read, “Grandpa’s condition is not promising. We are all at the hospital. Pray for him and our family.”

At that point, my grandfather had been in the hospital for a few days. His condition had been fluctuating for the past couple of days. The prognosis was not hopeful.

Half an hour later, I received a second text. It read, “Grandpa has passed away. Be brave.” My grandfather has died of organ failure. At age 88, it was not a complete shock, but it still feels surreal.

My grandfather’s death was not the first in my family; my uncle passed away in 2009 and my grandma passed away in 2012. But this one was different – I was not there to say the last goodbye.

As I put my phone down, I did not know how to react. I did not cry, or even tear up. I was just numb and in disbelief.

I still remember my mother telling me that I had to treasure my time with my grandparents, especially since I was only going to be home for four months a year. I spent time with them, of course, but being fourteen, I did not understand the significance of those words at that time. It did not occur to me that life is fragile, and that I would lose them so soon.

There are not enough words to describe the relationship I share with my grandfather. Despite being partially deaf, he had a strong presence everywhere he went. Most of the time, he was not able to hear anything we said (unless it was about food), but he continued to smile through conversations. His smile never failed to brighten my day.

My grandfather was a civil servant. His job in the post office may not have been sigificant, but from him, I learned the importance of having an education, for he made sure that his children got the best education he could provide them with, and ensured that my father would do the same. So today, with the education that my parents have given me, I have this goal to do well in school so I can provide the same to my future children.

Over the past eighteen years, with a few of those years spent under the same roof, we have bonded over our love for ice creams and naps, and have split numerous steaks and crepes. He has left me with many memories to hold onto, and I am so grateful for them since I am still in the U.S. and was not able to go to his funeral to see him one last time.

I wish I could have told him in person that I love him, and that he will always have a place in my heart. Rest easy, Yeye. We miss you already.