I too lost one of my grandparents when I was very young-my maternal grandfather passed away at a relatively young age (60) when I was 3 years old. I have no memories of him, but he was the one who called me his little BlondeCurlGirl. He was delighted that I looked (and still do) so much like my mother. I hear so many wonderful stories and feel like I have gotten to know him somewhat through pictures and his voice that we have on tape. I really wish that I had even one memory of my own of him.

In July of 2001 I lost my paternal grandmother to an aggressive form of pancreatic and blood cancer. She had such a kind heart, and even once she was diagnosed as terminal, she could only think of others. When she was told she could never go home again, she didn't care, because all of the comforts and memories of home were just material things. She was devoutly religious, and I was just glad that was able to help her deal with her illness and thankful that she didn't linger.

Since my parents moved far away from their home state when I was small, I only get to see my grandparents about twice a year. Every visit means so much as they get older, and now I only have two left, one on each side of the family.

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Though dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts; they serve for sweet relieving when fantasy and reality lie too far apart.-Fiona Apple