Dear Granddad,

Whenever I think of you, all I can remember is that awful moment on the hill, on what would be one of the last summers I saw you. I was a petulant, angered teen and just wanted to have my own way all of the time. You were a man in less than perfect health (no one could have known the sudden circumstances of your death) who just wanted to enjoy a life that hadn’t always been pleasant. You told me, despite my repulsive mood, that you would do anything you could for me - cut your own arm off even. I walked away because I’ve never handled emotional situations well.

I probably didn’t even talk to you much for the rest of the holiday. Or the years. Just when we all came together in summer.

I can’t even remember the last words we spoke or even where they happened. It was such a long time from that day to your death hundreds of miles from us.

But I wish I would have told you how much you meant to me too. I love you. I’ve never been the same without you and I wish I would have talked to you more and found out more about your history.

I remember how kinds you were, how funny and loving and I think the world feels the loss of you as much as I do.

Please know I’m sorry and I’d do anything to have you back or change the way I treated you.

Love,
Tessa, age 20