Through whatever circumstances, whether it was cancer, Alzheimer’s, a stroke, natural causes, etc., we have joined an elite club: the grandma-less group. We don’t have someone to run to when mom’s on a rampage about our GPA or when dad’s less than thrilled that we broke curfew. Some of us don’t even remember or never knew what it was like to have a second mom—someone that loves you so unconditionally and would lay down her own life for your happiness. Some of us lost our much older best friend so recently that the wounds have not quite closed. I say closed because we all know that those wounds will never heal.

Each of us, however, can relate to the little twinge of pain that flashes through our hearts when someone talks about going to their grandma’s house for lunch or running into her at the grocery store. They don’t understand what it’s like to pass her house and see someone else watering the flowers. It aches that you no longer have a place of refuge from the hurt of the real world; you’ve felt the last touch of a grandma’s love for the rest of your life and there’s no good way to grieve the loss. There have been so many times in your life where all you’ve wanted to do was run into her arms and forget the bad and negative and soak in the understanding and warmth instead. Some of us were even blessed with a foreign grandma. We know we were blessed with them because they taught us an entirely unique perspective on life as we know it; they made us better, more open-minded people.

Our grandmas will never see us graduate college, get married, have babies; we’ve lost that opportunity and there’s no one to blame but time. For the rest of our lives, there will be moments when we’ll forget that they’re gone; we’ll subconsciously look to the stands of the sporting arena, the seats of the theater, the family section at graduation, the waiting room of the hospital, the dining table during a holiday, the couch opening a present on Christmas and we’ll hope to see their smiling face, silently telling us how proud they are of who we are and what we’ve done. There’s no way to totally suppress the pain of losing someone that important, but we’ll learn to live with it. Over time, we’ll accept that the lucky ones got to keep their grandmas around a little longer. The jealousy will be fervent as ever, but we’ll feel happy for them and remind them of their blessing all the time.

For now, cheers to the grandmas we loved so much that their absence puts out a light in our lives. Because of them, we will never feel unloved. Thank you, Grandma, Oma, Nana, Granny, Nonna, Meme, Gramms, Mémé, Močiuté, for all the time we had together. We’ll see you again someday.