Growing up, I can distinctly remember the times when my grandma would pick us kids up and take us do to different things, or tag along on family vacations. I never remember her as “younger” per say because she had my dad later in her life. I don’t know whether I was lucky or privileged growing up that, other than my dog, I did not experience a death in my family until I was 19.

My grandma was such a blessing in everyone’s life, no matter who she talked to, ran into or met for the first time that day; everyone would walk away feeling like they had known her for years. My grandma was a saint. She always taught us to be humble and grateful for everything we had in life.

The fact that I never really had to deal with death for 19 years of my life made her death extremely difficult for me to comprehend. I was away at college, it was my freshman year and I was having the time of my life. I was getting ready to go on spring break with some of my best girlfriends from school, when I got a call that grandma was not doing well.

Thankfully, I live close enough to home that I was able to drive back, four days before I was supposed to get on a flight to Florida. Those next couple of days were a haze, my entire extended family was taking shifts in the hospital and all her grandchildren were able to say goodbye.

I had to leave in order to get back to school so I wouldn’t miss my flight, much to my dismay and resistance to leave, my parents reassured me that if my grandma knew I was going to miss Florida to stay with her, she would have kicked my butt.

So, I said my goodbyes and told her how much I loved her. The words that ended up being the last ones that I will ever hear her say to me were, “Haley, you are so special and always will be. I love you very much.”

A few days later, I got a call that she had passed, surrounded by family. Denial set in -- she’s not gone.

After coming back and going to her memorial, it was really time for me to go back to school. I did not really know how I would handle it. I kept telling myself she would pick up the phone when I called, or that, when I would come over on Sundays before going back to school after visiting home, she would answer her door.

It has taken me a very long time, and to this day I do not like talking about it because I get choked up, but what I do know is my grandma is dancing the days away with Jesus. She was the most amazing woman, who did anything and everything for her family.

She may have been 89 years old but she was with it until the day the Lord took her. Between keeping up with everything on the news, or joking with my dad when he walked in the door, “Oh Mike, you’ve gained weight," or being the pickiest woman in the assisted living place when it came to her low sodium diet, she definitely kept up her sense of wit and sarcasm.

Grief is a mysterious thing; some days you are on top of the world and other days it hits you like a truck. It is normal to cry and be sad, but what I have learned is if grandma were here she would not want that, she would want us to smile and cherish all those beautiful times we had with her while she was here.

I have realized I should not be sad, she is in Heaven, where we all long to make it after this life. She had such a long, amazing life, and God decided she was lucky enough to join him in his kingdom.

Grandma’s are golden. If you are ever lucky to have them in your life, do not take it for granted. Grandma Loretta taught me so much about love, faith, and being a beautiful daughter of Christ.

Her earthly body may be gone from this earth, but her spirit surely lives on in all of us, and her light keeps shining. Thank you for always keeping cookies out on your counter and being the star of all our Christmas parties, and camping trips, grandma.