One year ago I lost my grandfather. I still remember it fairly clearly, ranging from finding out at work, wondering whether or not I should immediately go to my grandmother’s home, and what emotions should I have, if any.
The subway ride back to Queens was just strange. I was grieving mentally but on the surface I showed nothing more than a barely sullen—yet expressionless—face.
My family will be visiting his grave at the cemetery in a few weeks in what will now become a yearly routine, in addition to our other cemetery visits.