I felt the old fingers grasp against my hand, they were my grandma’s fingers. She was holding on by a hair. We had gone walking along grandma’s favorite path, the blossom path.

Just thinking about a flower reminded me of my grandmothers natural beauty. It wasn’t all on the outside, it was her inner beauty. She could never be mad or upset at someone, her hearts was too large.

We continued our walk, a cherry blossom tree above us. My grandma desperately out of breath from the walk suggested we sit down on one of the benches. Prepared to let my grandma rest I replied with a yes.

My grandma spoke in our native language and explained how beautiful the tree above us was. She shivered, it was only 50, not too cold for me but cold for my grandma. Wanting to make her comfortable I give her my jacket. She gratefully hugged me.

A cherry blossom petal fell on my grandma’s head, we laughed it off and continued our walk. This was a week ago, my grandma was now dead. I exited the hospital, tears dripping down my eyes.

I run to our path, the blossom path, I sat where we sat before, right under the cherry blossom tree. A petal falls onto my hand, I think, it was my grandma, sending me a message. “I love you too grandma.”