The cold, New England wind rolled leaves over your and Zayde’s headstones. Aunt Paula is here too. Apparently, I just came to see you, talk to you. It’s been over two years, but I still think about you. I think about how bright you were, in intelligence and personality. Quick with a joke, an avid reader, and you loved your grandchildren so much. I’m unpacking now, so join me in this train of thought.

I’ve always wanted to start “Living Eulogies” to let the people who we love know how much we love them when they’re alive. I spoke at two funerals in my life so far, yours and Uncle Billy’s, but wouldn’t you want to hear these praises while you’re alive? To not leave this earth not knowing how people feel about you? Maybe that’s how self-centered we are when we are alive. We constantly care about what others think about us, but none of that matters when we’re gone. And maybe that’s why I’ve come here to talk to you. It’s not to praise you, but to catch you up on all that you’ve missed.

Well, how about that I got married last year! You were the only grandparent who I came out to, and from that moment, I pictured you at my wedding like how you went to each of my cousins’. We still had you there as well as my other grandparents and Uncle Billy to summon your presence on such an amazing day. I remember when you first met Sean, you acted like a yenta and said, “We’ll finally have a doctor in the family.” He appreciated that and I’m so glad that you two got to meet. You make up so much of who I am today.

When you were dying, I remember going on runs, knowing that it could happen at any moment, thinking about how you weren’t yourself. You once said, “Never lose the laugh,” and when I saw you in the hospital bed, your laugh was gone, maybe used up. Laughing at whenever we would barb my dad and joining in yourself, laughing over cards. You taught us a game and then expected us to be experts in it. Maybe that’s where Tova gets her cheating from.

On these runs, I would envision you ascending to the next plane, but I imagined that there were threads of light tethering you to earth. I would tell you, through tears, don’t stay here for me. Don’t suffer for me, and then my thread was cut. I was only one person and I know how many people loved you and couldn’t imagine a world without you. Uncle Barry saying, how do I say goodbye to someone that has known me since the day I was born. I wish I could have had you forever. Do you remember, I want to say it was first grade, when you and Zayde were going back down to Florida and I cried and tried to hold you both from leaving? As an adult, I don’t want to leave either, but I know you had to go.

Nana, I feel like, whether you knew it or not, you set us in motion. You gave us empathy and laughter. You looked on the bright side of life and knew we would get through whatever struggle we were going through. These are attributes I have now. It’s like every time you laughed, some of the giggle stayed with me to keep my laughter going. Now, every time I lose my breath when laughing, I’ll think of you. I love and miss you, more than anyone else. Thank you for everything you gave me.