The wave of nostalgia fills my head.

Sorrow.

Pain.

And I remember...

The day I saw grandma in her casket.

I was only six years old.

I didn’t know what death was.

I walked into the funeral home and saw people crying.

I saw her lying there.

Her hands were so cold.

Body so lifeless.

I whispered “grandma, wake up”

But I knew she was gone.

The sound of laughter echoes through my head

Sadness.

Pain.

And I remember...

The day I saw grandpa in the hospital bed.

Everyone gathered around and sobbed.

I didn’t understand what was happening.

My eyes filled with tears because I knew my life was going to change

The monitor wailed and showed a flat line.

My heart sunk.

Not him too.

The pictures race through my mind.

Regret.

Pain.

And I remember...

Sitting on Uncle Rick’s shoulders.

Moving his head around like it was the steering wheel to a race car.

Roasting marshmallows and eating pizza in his backyard.

The drawings of Garfield he made for me.

The day dad drove into that parking lot on his motorcycle.

Mom walked up to me and asked if I wanted to see him.

I said yes.

He hugged me so tight and told me that I’ve become so beautiful and big.

He loosened his hug and I pulled away slowly.

I looked up and he said “your uncle is dying”

I was 11 and I finally understood what that meant.

He had 3 days to live.

Mom’s car couldn’t make it to the hospital.

I didn’t get to say goodbye.

The sorrow.

The sadness.

The regret.

And I remember the pain.

I can’t remember the sound of their voices,

Or what they looked like.

I just remember the sadness.

And I remember the pain...