On April 11, 2015, I lost my grandmother to a long, hard battle with breast and ovarian cancer. Since then, I have tried to find the words to explain all the things I lost when she passed away. Below is a short story about the time that I lived with her, and why I am so thankful for that.

When we moved to Brownstown, I bawled like a big baby.

For the first eleven years of my life, I’d happily lived in the same grey trailer on Cardinal Lane with the tiny front porch. I’d ran up and down that street with my friends thousands of times. I’d rode my first bike on that pavement, and crashed it right into the trees that my home faced. All of my firsts—my words, my steps, my Christmas, my crush, my lost tooth—they’d all happened in this house. How could I leave that all behind?

Despite my resistance in moving, these would be two of the best years of my life. It’s quite simple, really, and I didn’t even realize how much I’d cherish it as a twenty-year-old college student: I got to live and grow closer with my dear grandmother in those two years.

Grandma was so happy the day we moved in. “Hopey,” she said with a giant smile, “These are going to be the best of days.”

She was so right. I can remember so many things. My mom was off at work for most of the time, so I got to bond with Grandma fairly often. I can remember her teaching me how to make deviled eggs for a pitch-in at school, telling me all about her secret ingredient. It was a little bit of pickle juice, and I now realize that wasn’t such a secret.

I remember in the seventh grade, there was a football game that I desperately needed to go to. It was Brownstown vs. Salem, and going was such a fun time. Thirty minutes before the game was to kick off, however, I’d lost my ten dollars for my ticket that my mother had given me. I searched high and low, and I cried when I had no luck. Grandma tucked me in a hug, laughed a little, and told me that everything would be alright. I remember when she pulled ten dollars out of her faded pink billfold and told me that momma didn’t have to know I’d lost the first ten. I remember being so grateful to have such a caring woman in my life and squeezing her into such a tight hug while I thanked her endlessly.

When Grandma moved away from Brownstown, I bawled like a big baby.

She was sick, and could no longer afford the apartment we were living in. She moved away to an apartment complex for seniors. I was so hurt, even angry. Why would Grandma leave me? Didn’t she know I needed her? I didn’t understand at such a young age.

I learned so many things in those two years. Grandma taught me about God in everything she did. She taught me how to be kind and forgiving and that I should always care for others even when they hurt me. She taught me about love and guided me in heartbreak. She was my very best friend.

In March of 2015, my mom called me in tears.

“Grandma only has a few weeks, Hopey. Come home.”

I cried all that night and I was home that weekend. Grandma was already mostly gone. She spoke in soft, short, lulls, and didn’t make much sense. I tried to ask her all the questions I’d never gotten the answers to, but it was too hard for her to think and speak.

The last time I saw my grandmother, she broke my heart when she called me by my sister’s name.

“Alyssa,” she asked, “is that you?”

“No, Grandma,” I said through my tears, “It’s me. It’s Hopey.”

Grandma smiled and squeezed my hand. She said to me very slowly, “Hi Hopey. I love you.”

A couple of weeks later, I was away at a conference when I received the most heartbreaking phone call of my life. My sweet, beautiful grandmother was gone. I broke down and cried, and my best friend ran out of the bathroom with alarm. I was so glad she was there that night to comfort me in what was the hardest of times for me.

When they closed the casket for the very last time, I bawled like a big baby.

April 16^th was one of the hardest days of my life, because I had to say goodbye to my best friend and so many memories. Today, I am so grateful that I moved to Brownstown. I’m happy to have the beautiful memories that I did with Grandma. I’m thankful to have learned from her, to have argued with her, to have laughed with her, and to have loved her. I miss Grandma every day of my life, but I’m also thankful for those two years every day of my life. I don’t know where I’d be without them.