Grief is a complicated thing. Sometimes it’s as ferocious as a lion, with the leg-amputating bite of a shark. Other times it’s the quiet squeak of a mouse, the irritating pinch of a mosquito. But it’s always there.

The latter half of 2023 was not kind to my family. First, my aunt on my mother’s side passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. Then four short months later, my grandma on my father’s side passed, not quite as unexpectedly, but still too soon. 

Every day I have the urge to pick up the phone to call them. But then I remember–today it was more like a kick in the ribs from a horse–and I sink into the regret of not calling more often when I had the chance. Grief makes hindsight look blind.

Grandma and Auntie were two of my favorite people. Grandma was sweet, sassy, hard-working, and fiercely protective of her family. Auntie had the biggest heart and loved taking care of others. She was creative, silly, and resilient even through the toughest times. Although I can’t call them anymore, I can remember them. I can look at old photos, tell stories about them to my children, and live my life taking into account all that they taught me. Here are a few of those things:

It’s the little things that count. My aunt enjoyed making things by hand and would often send homemade cards, jewelry, and other little items to me and my daughters. It meant so much to me to know that she was thinking of us, and my girls got excited every time they got something in the mail. I hope to continue my aunt’s legacy of snail-mail surprises in an increasingly digital world.

See the good. Grandma’s outlook was as rosy as her lipstick. She tended to see the good and believe the best about people, even when the truth was a little messier. And while you shouldn’t ignore reality, there is a sweet relief that comes along with a healthy dose of optimism.

Stop and smell the roses. One thing my grandma and aunt had in common was a love of gardens. Grandma’s was a tidy rose garden in the front yard, whereas my Auntie’s was a cozy backyard oasis, but both took joy in the beauty. And in a world full of craziness and screens, we could all use a little more natural splendor in our lives.

Find hobbies you enjoy. My grandma loved to read, and ever since I was a teenager, she would pass on books to me. She would tell me how it was such a great book, although she could never really remember anything about it. I would laugh, even when I found myself doing the same thing. Like grandma, like granddaughter. She also loved going to a casino and playing slot machines occasionally. She wouldn’t spend much, but the anticipation of hitting a jackpot kept her on the edge of her seat.

Quality time together makes the best memories. I was blessed to spend a lot of time with both of them, especially when I was a kid. My aunt took me on movie and ice cream dates, and snow skiing for the first time. She was also with me the first time I attended a concert. We had sleepovers, went on camping and boating trips, and shared a love of Finnish bread and chocolate. And she showered me with lots of hugs, laughter, and unconditional support.

With my grandma, time together meant things like frequent family dinners, cousin sleepovers at her house (with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for dessert and purple pancakes for breakfast), walks to the park, annual birthday shopping trips complete with a stop at the candy store and dinner at The Sizzler. As an adult, I even had the privilege of working with her for a couple years at a mortgage company. She taught me how to process loans, made me laugh, and conspired with our boss to get me to try new foods.

My grandma and aunt were amazing women who left behind legacies of love. I will always miss them, and I will always be grateful for having had them in my life.