My earliest recollection of grief was at 5 years old when my grandfather passed away. The adults were very kind to me as they knew how connected I was with him. Grandpa and I had spent hours upon a time, bonding in the kitchen, and he would pick me up from school. If it were not for pictures, it would be hard for me to describe his features – what stayed imprinted on my mind were how his hands looked and the experiences we shared. How warm and secure they felt when he held me in a hug or carried me to different spaces. As young as I was, I…