‘Girls, Ezan wake up’, my father woke us up very early in the morning, around 4 am. My sisters Dina, Tima and my brother Ezan could hear the nervousness in my father’s voice. ‘Digni te se, umrla je nana’, (English: Get up grandma died) my father said. My dad quickly shut the door, my older sister Dina buried her head in her pillow, my brother , the oldest, Ezan put his hands over his head, stroking his hair, my little sister Tima, only 4 years old, not understanding went back to sleep. But me, Melly, sat there confused gazing off, not knowing how this could happen. I remember how I rushed out of my bed, barley awake, ran to my dresser and grabbed a beautiful card I made for my grandmother. I was suppose to give her that card, that summer when my family and I would go back to Montenegro (where my grandmother lived along with the rest of my family). I made her a card the first time I met her, and a second one for when I see her again. The card I made for her, was striking, I drew her face, with her husband (my grandfather) I drew her happy and smiling...simply lovely. I grasped it in my hands, and showed it to my parents, ‘Mama, I was suppose to give this to nana, this summer, look how I drew it, she’s beautiful, isn’t she? I have to give it to her,’ I said, as if I didn’t know she passed away, acting as if she was still there. My mother stared at me with a blank look, my father absolutely broken. The rest of that night was filled with silent cries and heart break.

‘Are you guys ready? Were leaving!’, my mother shouted. ‘Hajde’, (English: Come on) my dad said. My dad, Rudy, and older brother, Ezan loaded the car with our suitcases, in the trunk of our silver Nissan. We were going to Montenegro, I was very young, only 6 years old, it was my first time. We couldn’t wait to see our family. It was like a dream come true, I still remember the feeling to this day. The sun was beating down on us that day, we were nearly sweating. The car ride to the airport was filled with endless laughs. My father was driving, and telling jokes the whole time, I've never seen him so happy to see his family again. He was born in Montenegro, and his whole childhood and life memories were all there and he wanted to bring his whole family to show us all the amazing beautiful things Montenegro held. My dad kept making funny faces in the mirror, that my sisters and I crack up, it was so funny to us. His dark brown glossy eyes, thick black hair and sharp look reminded me of my brother. My brother looked just like him, a replica but obviously younger. Rudy, my father, was always a delicate, soft hearted person, but still full of fire when he had to be. My mother on the other hand, is always happy trying to make a bad time into a good one, always smiling. She kept singing in the car to Montenegrin songs like, Dobro Jutro Nikome (English: Good Morning to Nobody). or she would sing, Usne Boje Vina (Wine Colored Lips). My mom sang her heart out.

When we arrived in Montenegro, I saw so many faces, so much people. My heart sank not knowing who to greet first. My uncles, aunts, cousins gazed down at me laughing and smiling hugging all of us. I saw endless cousins, and there stood my grandmother Elmaza Sabovic, of course an old women, but beautiful and full of power. My grandmother, was always in charge of everything, like a mother to everyone. She made the family closer and closer to each other, she kept us tight to this day. Her husband died many years back. Yes, she didn’t have her faithful partner, but she had a huge family and their houses were right next to each other. She looked at us, ‘Ejj ovo je familija, moj sin je napravio! MashAllah!’, (English: Ohh this is the family my son has made! God bless!) my grandmother said in joy. My father looked at her and gave her a huge hug, and we all did. Our whole family sat outside for hours, talking. I finally had the guts to pull out the card I made for my grandmother, I was kind of shy because it was the first time I met her. My brain filled with thoughts, would she like it? Is it ugly? Is it nice? I held it out and tried to speak Montenegrin as good as I could, because I was very young. ‘Nana...ovo je za tebe’, (English: Nana...this is for you) I said nervously. My grandmother looked at it and paused. ‘Ti si ovo pravila za mene? Kako je fino! Hvala puno ruzo moja!’, (English: You made this for me? It is so beautiful! Thank you so much my rose!) my grandmother said. I couldn’t stop smiling. She said the funniest thing, ‘Ej zaboravila si ovo! Na glavu!,’ (English: Oh you forgot this! The thing on my head!) nana said laughing. Oh God, I thought how could I forget that! She always wore a beautiful, handkerchief type of cloth over her hair and tied it at the end. We couldn’t stop laughing. She hugged me so tight, so delighted that she got see us. My grandmother, even when she was young was a very respected lady. She always tried to honor her family, everyone in town knew her, always happy to speak to her. My dad endlessly talks about how she was the best lady in her generation. I never forgot that summer, the first I met my grandmother, the day I met the lady my father always told us stories about, I was proud to call her my grandmother and I still am.

After that summer, my family and I came back to America, and thats when we got the news. My grandmother has passed away, from old age. We went to Montenegro that summer again, everyone still trying to manage that smile because we were there. When the news broke out about my grandmother, the whole town went completely lifeless for a few days. Everyone knew our family was very upset and everyday someone would tell us how sorry they were for our loss. Everything was beautiful, but not the same. Where was my grandmother? Where was the queen? My dad told us to dress in formal clothing because we were to visit her grave that day. It was a white grave, astonishing engravings. Her grave was right next to her husband’s, along with some of my cousins that have passed away earlier. I remember my hands on her grave stroking it, feeling the smoothness of it, pretending she was there, I did a prayer for her. She must be so happy, to be with her husband now, I thought. My father’s brothers took so much good care of her, even gave her, her own separate floor in one of their houses. I went in there only once, after she died to see it, it was empty. I only met her once, and I felt so much pain after she died, as if I knew her all my life. I thought my grandmother would live up to this day, so she could see how much my siblings and I have grown, I never knew that we were going to lose her so soon. I sat on the front steps of the house, they were marble. I loved those steps and I still do, the design was pretty, I remember taking a picture with my grandma and our family on those steps all together. As I sat down there, and old lady holding a huge bag full with clothes, supplies and so many items came into our front yard. I stared at her in confusion, why was she just walking towards our home? She sat down right next to me, I just stared at her and asked her politely, ‘...Sta ces? Kako se zoves, i sto su sjela kraj mene?’, (English: What do you want? What is your name, and why are you sitting next to me?). ‘Pa ciganka, predajem stvari da bi mogla da zivim bojle’, (English: Well, I'm a Gypsy, I sell items so I could live a better life) she said to me. I chuckled and looked at her, I thought it was funny to meet a Gypsy. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and laughed out loud, and shook my hand. There was a few Gypsies is Montenegro, usually traveling. ‘Koliko imas godine ti mala, nisi ti nikad videla ciganke, evo ja sam prva’, (English: How old are you little girl, you never seen a Gypsy before, well I'm the first one) she said laughing. She asked me where my grandmother was. The laughter immediately turned into silence, I thought she was kidding and I almost yelled at her to leave. I told her that she died, and stared at me nearly crying. The poor lady didn’t even know that my grandmother died. The Gypsy lady looked at me and told me that my grandmother always bought clothes from her and said that she was good friends with her. ‘Tvoja nana, i ja smo uvjek pricali...dobro zena...puno dobra’, (English: Your grandmother and I always talked, she was a very good women, very good) she said to me stuttering a bit. Then she left upset. It was significant how she didn’t beg for money, after she learned that my grandmother died, she picked up her stuff and walked away...ashamed. I valued every Gypsy I saw for some reason, Montenegrin people always looked down on them because they were poor and always begging but that Gypsy I met didn’t, she actually liked my grandmother and showed complete respect, and I could understand why, but I would always be nice to them, like my grandmother did. From that moment, I almost forgot the card I made for my grandmother, and I was suppose to give it to her. I ran to my suitcase grabbed it, my mother stared at me, ‘Melly...wha-’, she stopped. I looked at her kept going opened my grandmother’s door put the card on the top of her dresser. Shut the door behind me and left.

After losing my grandmother, I’ve learned a valuable lesson. It changed me in a strong way. I’ve learned to always value a person, because you never know when you can lose them. You can be normally living with them, then you can lose them. You realize how much someone is worth after they’re gone, and how much they meant to you, and your life. I only met my grandmother that one time, one summer, and never again. Even today I think of all the things we could've done together, so she could die knowing she spent her last year amazingly with her grandchildren. We didn’t know we would lose her that quick. This experience changed me so much, especially towards my loved ones. Now when we go to Montenegro, I try so hard to spend every second with my family and cousins. From day to night. To beaches, cafes, lakes, restaurants and even little walks, cherishing all these moments. Every summer when my family and I return to Montenegro, I feel my grandmother’s presence along with my grandfather’s making sure our family is tight, forever. We all know our grandmother would be upset if we weren't. To this day, we call our grandmother, Nasa Majka (English: Our Mother).