My grandma is my best friend. But when she was diagnosed with dementia, I worried we’d lose our connection as her memories faded.
I grew up right down the street from my grandma. And for my whole life, she took care of me — picked me up from school, cooked for me and spoiled me like no other.
When I started college, she was diagnosed with dementia. It got difficult for me to see her while I was busy with school. And honestly, it was hard to see her suffer. Then my family made the decision to move her back home to Spain.
Now she’s 6,000 miles away and I miss her like crazy. I often reminisce about what it was like when we still lived down the street. And it brings tears to my eyes.
My grandma said she never got to live out her dream as a writer because she was so busy raising eight children. Now, years later I realize that I’m living her dream — as an aspiring journalist.
So even though we may not be physically close anymore, sometimes I imagine how happy she’d be to know that in a way, I’m carrying on her legacy.