Love, Unconditional essay excerpt, 44-46
I hadn’t seen my grandparents for nearly a year when I planned to visit Nana one last time. In mid-February I bought a plane ticket for early March. “You might not make it,” my father warned. He knew dying does not cater to the will of the living. I did not yet understand that death offers no second chances. One week before my scheduled arrival, Nana was gone.