I lost my grandmother just as I was beginning my journey into adulthood. For a year, I couldn’t grieve. I was simply numb. I missed the woman who shared my ice cream and my pain—the one who filled my imagination with stories and believed that I could touch the stars. I could not imagine going through life without her.
I cherished the few possessions she left behind—her writing desk, an antique ring, and some cards I had made for her when I was a child. But the most precious gift she gave to me…
