The touch I never lost ……..

There are people we don’t realize we’re slowly becoming dependent on until life asks us to live without them. For me, those people were my grandparents.I don’t remember every conversation we had, but I remember the feeling of being around them. Their home always felt warmer somehow. My grandmother would ask if I had eaten, even when I had. My grandfather had this way of making every little story sound important, and somehow, I always found myself listening. Back then, I thought these were just ordinary moments.  I didn’t know they would one day become the memories I’d hold on to the tightest.

As children, we think our grandparents are permanent. We assume they’ll always be there, sitting in the same corner of the house, smiling as we walk through the door. We never imagine that one day the house will still be there, but they won’t. The silence that follows their absence is something no one really prepares you for.

Life moved on, as it always does. New places, new people, and new responsibilities filled my days, but there was always a quiet emptiness that never quite left.Some days, I still find myself wishing I could tell them about everything that’s changed. Losing them didn’t just leave behind memories—it left behind conversations I’ll never get to have.

Maybe that’s the hardest part of growing up. You don’t just miss the people you love; you miss the version of yourself that existed when they were around. Their love was a kind of comfort that nothing else has ever managed to replace.