Reflections on My Grandmother's Death Anniversary

February 26, 1991, 7:35 PM—
This is the day my grandmother departed.

Until now, I have visited her grave and pressed my hands together in prayer at the family altar, but I had never been strongly conscious of the anniversary of her death itself. However, having had the opportunity to research my family's ancestral history and learning the dates of their passing, my awareness naturally shifted toward it. And so, this time, I thought about sending flowers for my grandmother for the first time.

I chose not standard funeral flowers, but vibrant ones that evoke the arrival of spring. During this time of year, when the snow is still piled deep, I hoped to add a splash of color to the silver-white world and bring her a sense of warmth, however slight.

My grandmother was kind, but at times she was strict and even a little intimidating. Still, after she fell ill and her health declined, I think my feelings and perspective toward her began to change.

Even now, I remember that final day clearly. Our last meeting at the hospital. The moment she was cremated and became ashes.

At the time, as a second-year junior high school student, it was the first time I had ever faced the reality of death. It was an indescribable shock, and though the memories are fragmented, they are burned into my mind like a film.

Even now, I will never forget my grandmother.

And today, the anniversary of her death that comes once a year, I intend to think of her and immerse myself in memories.

Believing that we will meet again somewhere.

Thank you, and rest in peace—.

I hope this piece of writing serves as an opportunity for reflection for those who have lost someone dear, and for those who have not.