I should have told you that I loved you. I should have made an effort to visit you more. I should have tried to know you. There are hundreds of things I should’ve done, yet I never had the time to do them. You were suffering for as long as I can remember. Forgetful. Confused. Lost. Everyone longed to help you, yet it was too painful to be around. I never had a chance to know you, and you never had a chance to know me. My parents said that we would’ve gotten along very well. They said you were the nicest lady in the whole, wide world. I would love to go shopping with you, or even get our hair done. I want to hear all your stories. Stories about New York City. Stories about meeting Grandpa. Stories about my father as a child. I would tell you my stories too, I have a lot of them. I wish I was born earlier, so I could’ve met the real you. Not the sick you. I resent my father for not taking me to see you more. I will never understand why he stayed so far away, I’m sure it made you sad. I’m so sorry he did that to you. I think he’s sorry too. And now that you’re gone and everything, I’m really sorry too. I guess your passing is what it took us to realize what we missed out on. Although it took eight years, I want you to know now. I love you, Grandma.