In Honor of My Late Grandmother

My grandmother lived for 94 years, experiencing wars and four reigns of Thailand.

Year after year, our entire family—over a dozen of us—gathered at Grandma's house to share meals during ceremonies, holidays, and birthdays. It was certainly more than a hundred gatherings that she graced us with.

She was always there with us from the moment we entered this world. You could even say that our earliest memories began with her presence.

She lived so long that we sometimes thought she would live forever. Even in her final year, she remained healthy enough to smile, talk, and navigate her days—until she could not anymore.

The reality struck us: no one can live forever, no matter how much we wish for it.

She was always calm and collected, yet her presence radiated warmth that made us feel safe and comfortable.

Most importantly, she was a fighter. The doctors told us she had less than a month to live, yet she gifted us two whole months to be with her and process our grief—a testament to her strength.

Though her absence has left a significant void in our hearts, it comforts us to know that she did not suffer much in her final moments. Now, she can rest peacefully after a long, well-lived life.

As descendants of Chinese heritage, we held a traditional Chinese funeral ceremony. We walked her soul to heaven ourselves and burned essential items for her use in the afterlife. We also buried her alongside Grandpa, who passed away a decade ago, so now she can finally enjoy eternal peace with the love of her life.

This is not a forever goodbye; we will visit her every year as part of The Qingming Festival. However, it is undoubtedly one of the hardest goodbyes we have ever faced together.

Although, sadly, the journey back to Grandma's house together as a family will no longer include her physical presence, we still find joy in being together. The atmosphere remains filled with warmth from the bond that Grandpa and Grandma created for us, just as before. We continue to chat and laugh, looking at each other with happiness. We can see old memories overlapping with new stories being created in every moment we spend together in the room where we have always shared meals.

I believe this is what people mean when they talk about leaving a legacy behind: when what you’ve done becomes the norm and the way you loved becomes second nature to those who remain. There’s no need for grand gestures or eloquent speeches—just pure habits lingering like a perfume that never fades away.

This is what grandma left us: 
Her way of life.  

And I’m so grateful for it. We all are.

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With what you taught us, I’m sure we will be okay, no matter how difficult it may be. The lives we shared will remain with us until our own last breaths. And the love will continue to persevere, and your legacy will thrive through our way of life. No one is truly gone as long as someone remembers them, and we all plan to remember you for the rest of our lives.

So may you rest in peace. Don’t worry about us; we will meet again soon enough.