So a friend in the family died a few days ago. But I have to explain. My biological grandparents don't really count in my life. In my mind, my "true" grandparents have always been a couple named Karl and Midori that befriended my family before I was born. Later, they moved to Hawaii and we didn't get to see them for years.
One day I was doing my laundry when my father casually yells out, "Midori died." I dropped my clothes and stared at the floor for I don't know how long, trying to catch my breath. I couldn't get up the nerve to read the email that Karl had sent, but finally, I sat down and read the thing.
It was beautiful. Karl truely loved Midori, more than anything else in his life. I can only hope to find that sort of devotion and happiness. I just wish that I had been there to offer the support and care that he had shown me in the early stages of my life. But Karl never told us that anything was wrong with Midori. We were blind-sided, rendered incapable of doing anything to help him. And now, he's there in Hawaii, left to deal with the death of his love alone.
I guess it just now hit me what I have lost. And there's no way to ever get it back again. I miss them.