Nana Anna,

This week marks 3 years that you have been gone, and I am not completely sure how I feel about that. How are you supposed to feel when you are reminded of a loss that cut you so deeply? Of course, the idea of you being gone for so long already fills me with sadness. It breaks my heart a little more each time I think about it to know that I have spent 3 years without your warm smile, your gentle touch, your soothing voice, and your contagious laugh.

Losing you was by far the hardest thing I have ever experienced in my life. I never thought I would take it as hard as I did. I didn't have any idea that the bond I had with you was so strong that I would still cry often to this day about you being gone, that I would ask God for one more moment with you to just hear your voice, to hear you giving me advice, or to hear you say, "I love you more".

The loss of you was hard for me because of how much you did for my brother and I. You were our babysitter twice a week, and most of my fondest memories were with you. You brought us everywhere- parks, movie theaters, restaurants... someone name a place, and there was a good chance you had brought us there. You knew our favorite TV shows, our favorite foods. You held us when we cried, and laughed when we laughed. You felt our pain, our happiness, and every little feeling in-between. There was no one my brother smiled bigger for, and there is no one else in this world, besides my parents, that I loved more than I loved you.

You were an angel on earth, a true saint. Everything you did was for others, and I truly thank you for passing on that altruistic nature to me. Everyone who knew you, said the same thing,

"Your nana was a very special lady."

And I know you were. You did more for me than almost anyone, had faith in me when I didn't have faith in myself, taught me how to be a child of God and a woman with integrity. That's why when I think about you, I can barely breathe. There is a heaviness in my heart knowing that you could still be here, and that you were taken from us too soon.

The only thing that gives me some sort of comfort is knowing that God only takes the best early, and he wanted you to come home.

As hard as your loss was, and is, to accept, I thank you for all you have done for me. I hope you are watching over me. Every kind act I perform, every life I touch, every piece I write, is a reflection of all of the things you have taught me, an authentic reflection of all you were and all you wanted your grandchildren to be.

I hope I am making you proud, and that I am the epitome of all you wanted me to ever be.

My love for you knows no boundaries.

Love,

Your loving granddaughter