Two days ago, my last remaining grandparent, my mamaw, took her final breath. The end of an era. The last pillar of a generation, now fallen, but her legacy will not die. It’s etched in memory, in the lives she touched, in the lessons she taught.
I’m fortunate. Fortunate to have had them – all of my grandparents – standing strong for so long. But now, their absence. It’s a void, a gap in the our families. It’s a loss that’s felt deeply.
Yet, in this moment of sorrow, there’s a lesson. A lesson about strength, about endurance. Their journey was long, their impact profound. They’ve set the bar, shown the way. Now, it’s on me to carry forward, to live up to the example they’ve set.
So, I move forward. With sadness, yes, but also with resolve. Resolve to honor them, to keep their memory alive, to be the kind of person they’d be proud of. This isn’t the end. It’s a new mission. One of remembrance, of legacy. And that mission, I accept.
