I was 8 when my grandma was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I didn't fully understand it-just knew she was sick, but she'd be okay. To cheer her up, I gathered my cousins and made a garden in her name-Sushila's Garden. She was the chief guest at our little ceremony and cried tears of joy. By the next summer, she was gone. I visited the garden, now untended, and cried too. That was the first time my heart broke. 20 years have passed, but the ache never left. It never will.
The Bloom That Taught Me Grief!..
griefEstimated reading time: 1 minute
July 24, 2025
Anonymous Writer
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