I don't really know how to start this letter. It's hard trying to talk to someone you've never met, but have always wanted to. I mean, it's not like I haven't talked to you. You are always the one I reach out to when I'm need of some help. I shoot a prayer up to heaven, hoping your wisdom will rain down on me, no matter the situation. And sometimes, you answer me--especially when I am with my mom/dad (your child), I feel your presence more than ever.

I've spent my entire (short) life wondering just why you were taken from this world. Why I was the kid in fourth grade who had to listen to all of the other kids talk about how great grandma makes her cookies. Why I had to be the one who never could get to cook hands on with you or help you in your garden to learn the true meaning of hard work.

After all, death has always been a hard subject for me to comprehend. It never made sense that even the best of people could be taken right from the warm embrace of their loved ones when they needed that person most.

But though you left, we never forgot you. I've heard countless stories about you--your bravery, your silly little tendencies, and your delicious home cooked meals that are never the same whenever anyone else tries to make them. But more than anything else, your love. The way you would so selflessly put your family and loved ones above yourself.

These qualities that I never got to experience firsthand--not even for a second--leave me in awe of you. Call me crazy for loving someone who I've never met, but I beg to differ. I may have never met you in your physical body, but I have certainly met you through the stories that are passed down and through your presence that I hold on to so dearly wherever I go.

Over time, I've grown to realize that death is but a reality in this short time we have on earth, and the real prize is in heaven. It's hard to fathom that where you are now is much better than this life could have ever been, but I cling to that faith.

Knowing you are safe and content looking down on me has helped me to realize just how important my time is on this earth--how I should cling to every moment I have with every loved one I have. How I should never waste a moment doing something I don't love. But I also should not cling to the things of this earth because soon enough, it will all fade away.

And when my time has come, I want there to be more than a closet full of my old shoes being donated to the Salvation Army. I want a lasting legacy like you have on this earth. I want people to remember me because of the love I had for those around me, just like you. I want my future children and grandchildren to know how much I care for them, and I want to be someone they can look up to speak with whenever they are having a rough day.

Grandma, I want to be just like you--someone with qualities so radiant that even someone who has never met me can love me with the deepest of loves.