I wish time travel was real. 
Because then I could go back in time. 
I could go back to the time when Grandma Dorette took me and Emily shopping in the city 
and made us feel like grown-ups as we tried on different dresses. 
Back to the time when we went with Uncle David to an indoor waterpark on Pesach 
and she shoved a toaster on top of me and Emily in the back seat. 
Back to the time when she accidentally went into the ocean with her phone. 
Twice. 
To the videos she would send every Tisha B’Av, 
saying, “The ocean is angry.” 
Or when we sat in her house 
rolling wate’anab for Thanksgiving dinner. 
Or when I spoke with her about my love life and she told me, 
“When you love someone, nothing else matters. You do whatever is necessary for them.”

Please Hashem
change the clock. 
Turn back time. 
Take me to the moment she gave me her Dorette ring
and said I was the only one she could give it to. 
To when I picked up the veal she cooked for Michael
because he was sick and she wanted to give him power.
To our phones call
as she waited to pick up Uncle David outside of his office. 
It takes a special grandma for all of her children and grandchildren to think they were her favorite. 

Kohelet says it’s better to spend time in a house of mourning than at a party. 
I now understand why. 
It’s humbling to see how much of an impact Grandma had on the people around her. 
All you needed was to meet Grandma one time
and you’d remember her forever. 
She loved to talk to people
and made a connection with each person she spoke to. 
Even the garbage man knew her. 

But time travel does not exist. 
And now neither does Grandma.
And there’s this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that keeps reminding me that 
she won’t be here for my college graduation
or for my wedding. 
She won’t be there for any more birthdays or holidays.
Every milestone in our lives, 
we won’t see her at anymore.  
Now she only lives in our hearts and in our memories. 
Her smile is frozen in time in the pictures of her we now have to cherish
As a reminder of her, 
As if they could ever come close to replacing her. 
As if wearing a piece of her jewelry could maintain her connection with me. 
I just can’t understand how a woman so active and full of life can just 
leave.

But that’s life. 
We’re so sad right now because we feel the world lacking
the beautiful, vibrant spirit that she was. 
Because now we sit and wonder how could we possibly smile 
without her here to make us laugh.
We burst into tears at a familiar sight or smell
that just screams Grandma.
We keep getting sucked into these random spurts of
frustration, panic, and fear
as we imagine life without her. 
But that’s not what she taught us. 
She did not teach us to cower in the face of pain. 
She taught us that even in difficult times 
we have to make the best of every situation. 
She taught us that family comes first 
and that we should never be afraid to be ourselves
because of what others might think.

Now we must live for her.
Grandma’s job with us is finished. 
Now it’s our job to carry on her memory
and continue to emulate her values. 
And to never forget Dorette Dayan,
formerly Menahem. 
But let’s be honest,
she wouldn’t let us forget her,
even if we tried.

~Dorette