The sky was gray and somber as as she stepped out of the black car. The frigid winter air hit her and ruffled her pale pink dress. The burnt orange leaves crunched against her leather boots as she approached the seemingly endless rows of stone. She held her dad’s hand tightly as they walked up to the Donnellan headstone. Sarah and her family were in Staten Island for Christmas Eve.

She admired the detail of the stone; alpha and omega symbols representing faith and a heart to show undying love. Sarah read the inscription below a cross, Alice S and John J.

With tears forming in her brown eyes, Sarah placed a poinsettia bouquet on the verdant grass. Her brother set a miniature fir tree decorated with metallic ornaments next to the stone. Her dad embraced his family in a tight hug. Her dad began to recollect his memories of his parents, so faint in his mind but always remaining there. Sarah couldn’t help but feel sorrowful for her father. The thought of losing her parents ripped a hole through her fragile heart, and she started to tear up.

Despite never meeting her grandparents, Sarah always felt a connection to them. She would always go through old photo albums, curious about what they were like.

Her grandma passed away when her dad was only a child. Her grandpa passed a year before she was born. Her parents found out they were pregnant with Sarah a month or two later. They’ve always told her that she was a gift from him. She always keeps that in her heart, always feeling his presence throughout her life.

She left the cemetery with a small, yet warm smile, knowing her grandparents would always be looking after her, like guardian angels.