My day was busy like a buzzing bee. I had to play the piano for the NJMTA Spring Festival auditions, I had to have dim sum with my extended family, I had to make dumplings for my brother’s birthday dinner, and I had to finish reading Divergent by Veronica Roth. However, of my entire day, the event that touched me the most was visiting my grandpa’s grave. Every year, my entire dad’s side of the family (which includes all of my father’s siblings and their families) visits my grandpa’s grave in early April. Everyone with the exception of my dad’s sister’s family because they do not live nearby. Sometimes, even my grandpa’s stepbrother, who is his only other relative in the United States, brings his family as well.
This year, we went today. The reason in particular was because we were celebrating my grandma’s eightieth birthday and many more relatives had traveled to come celebrate with us. Those who flew over included my dad’s sister, two of my grandma’s nieces, and her youngest sister. So, with all these family members gathered together, we decided to take the trip to visit my grandpa. Every time we do this, I wonder. I wonder what it would have been like if I had met my grandfather. I wonder what kind of person that he was. I wonder how all the family events that we have had over the course of my life would be different if he was here. I wonder if he would have been proud of me. I feel sad and unlucky to have not had the opportunity to meet my grandpa, but I know that he is always looking over me and supporting me, every moment and forever.