This Time, Last Year

This time, last year, I recieved news of your death. I was leaving campus and about to hop into the service taxi when my mother called. I thought she was laughing; what she was saying was intangible. Then, I realized she was crying, telling me my grandfather had passed away.

Everyone was shocked, even my grandfather’s best friend who kept saying, “My best friend left me.” 1601446_1506067319680188_3704609461498975964_n

One year later, it still doesn’t feel real. It feels like he just went on a really long vacation. Today, I passed by the little coffee shop he used to sit outside of early in the morning before he runs errands for my grandma.

I miss your laugh, Grandpa. I miss seeing your koffeiyah hung up on the coat hanger when I walk into your house. I miss seeing your gold 90s’ model Mercedes drive around. I miss seeing the newspaper on the table in the baranda as you, Grandma, and my aunt each read a section when we walk in. I miss you believing in me.

May you rest in peace, and may God have mercy on your soul.


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