Dear Luki,

I’ve been having a tough time deciding what to write about this week. Sometimes I wish I could tell you about the things your grandpa liked — his hobbies, his passions, his major interests… but every time I try to start a letter like that, I can only think of one thing: us.

I have no stories about his devotion to a favorite sports team; no anecdotes about him going fishing and bringing home a big catch; I can’t share any tales about him playing golf, or poker, or collecting antique cars.

There was only one thing your grandpa cared about. And it was his family.

So, I can tell you that I remember going to the park every Saturday to kick a soccer ball around with him and your uncle Ani. That he stayed up late every time I had a Science Project due and helped me cut the pieces of construction paper in straight lines. That he ironed my pants.

That he called your grandma from work to remind her to take her medications. That he built her a custom closet. That he made her a cup of tea every morning before leaving the house.

I can tell you that he taught your uncle Ani to change the oil in his car. That he wired your dad’s sound system. And that, from the moment he heard you were coming, he talked of nothing else.

And maybe you’ll read this and think, “how boring… to lead such a simple life, to have no passions or hobbies except for your family.”

But I want you to know, Luki, that he was happy. Really and truly content. In need of nothing else. I never once heard him say, “what if” or “if only” or “I wish I would have.” In us, he had it all.

May you grow up to find that same satisfaction, my son.

Love,

Mom