|Photo Credit: Deborah Roberts|
We moved to Africa when I was 22 months old.
We would visit Korea in the summers, and my grandpa would take me — just me — to the zoo, to get ice cream, and on other special outings.
My mom always said I was his favorite.
My grandpa died almost three years ago, a year and a month before my son - his first great-grandchild - was born. It is one of the greatest heartbreaks of my life that I missed out on introducing my baby to him.
I follow this blog regularly. Kari writes beautifully, and she thinks and feels beautifully. She recently lost her grandfather, and I wanted to share them here and here.
If you've lost a beloved grandparent, I hope you have meaningful memories of them.
If you have the blessing of having grandparents who are still alive, make more memories.