It was a cold chilly day when my father sat me down and told me what had happened, with tears rolling down his face he looked up at my eyes and told me my great grandmother Van had passed away, I didn't know what to do or say, I knew I would never know the way he felt. It was a rough year for my family, more so my dad. It’s now been a year since her passing and I can still recall the look on my dad’s face, as if he just lost everything, I didn't know what to do or say, she was never in my life. But she was the second mom to my dad when he was a child. I couldn't feel the agony he felt.

I remember the phone call my dad got about 6 months before her death, it was my grandmother Karen crying on the other end about my great grandmother Vanis, everyone called her Van. As the phone call went on I could hear little bits of their conversation,

“there’s something wrong with grandma Van.” Karen said, my father replied as he grabbed  his jacket “we’re on our way!” without knowing exactly what was going on. We all got in the car and were on our way to her house. I looked up at my father’s eyes and asked “what’s going on,” he looked back at me and said “Vans really sick.” as he said this I didn't know what to think. Does she have a cold? The flue? I didn't know what was really going on. We get to Vans house and she was as white as a ghost, the look in her eyes said it all, she was dying. My father rushed to her side, we dashed to the car, piling in everyone into the car and on to the hospital we went. The car ride was awkward, to my left my sister was playing with the window, to my right Van looked asleep. Not a word was said.

When we arrived to the hospital, I looked up at the sky it was grey and dark, my belly started to turn as we entered the hospital, I grabbed my father’s arm and saw the tears rolling down his face, and he was terrified.  They took Van and we sat and waited for the results. The Doctor said it wasn't serious that she was just not eating enough thus my grandma Karen would visit twice a day as would my dad. As the days went on Van was only getting sicker and was constantly in the hospital. By the time we found out what was killing her it
was too late. Grandma Van had an infestation of black mold growing in her house. Her lungs were already so bad from smoking. Even when she knew she was getting sick she wouldn't stop smoking.

I and Van never had the bestrelationship, I only ever seen here on holidays. I feel as if I could have seen
her more if I would have asked my parents more. But I always told myself she lived too far away or she might be busy. And when she passed away the door for a better relationship closed and I only knew her as my great grandma, not someone who made an impact on my life, not a role model or even a friend.

On the other hand, Van and my dad had a great relationship when he was a child. Van was like a second mom to him, my dad always tells me stories about their adventures together. When she passed it was especially hard on him, it made me feel horrible that I couldn't feel the way he felt, or know how much of an impact she was on him. I’d never know the feeling. Because Van was never in my life it’s made me want to spend more time with the rest of my family and never take them for  granted.