I should have said more

It's been five years since my grandma died. Five years. And every single day, I think about her. Not in a nice, peaceful way, either. It's more like a punch in the gut, every time. She was always there for me, always. Baked me cookies after school, listened to my stupid teenage problems, even lent me money when I needed it (and never asked for it back!).

I was a terrible grandchild. I took her for granted. I thought she'd always be there. When she got sick, I visited, yeah, but I was always on my phone, or rushing off to meet friends. I never really sat down and *talked* to her. Asked her about her life, what she was feeling. I just made small talk about the weather and my classes.

The worst part is, the last time I saw her, she looked so frail, so small in that hospital bed. She tried to smile, and I just gave her a quick hug and said I had to go. I had a stupid party to get to. A stupid, meaningless party. I should have stayed. I should have held her hand. I should have told her I loved her, and that I was grateful for everything she'd done. I didn't. And now it's too late. The guilt is eating me alive. I miss her so much. Please, if you still have your grandma, tell her you love her. Don't wait until it's too late like I did.