Originally published in The Nassau Weekly, 2016.
Let me tell you a story. There was a storm on the day my great-grandmother died.
I arrived at their little house in the countryside on the first week of June, having just finished my last year of college. I planned a whole month to go and visit her, though I only stayed about three weeks. We hadn’t seen each other for years, so my mother suggested I go as soon as I was able to. I had been distant from my family during college, and I was planning to take the next few months for myself, to get my mind off school, but with Nana–we called her Nana–nearly ninety-two years old, I felt it was the right thing to do.