During the early months of the new year in 2006, my paternal grandfather died of a streptococcus infection. At that time my sister, brother and I were too young to understand, but we soon began to realize that a part of us was different and missing. Our family did not feel complete without my grandfather’s presence. Members of father’s side of the family were despondent and in a state of utter shock. Eventually with time and grit, they fought the sadness together and life resumed its almost as normal as before. Last summer, my family and I dedicated an entire morning to go and visit his tomb in Alsace, France. His name engraved on a dark slab of granite enable me to see my reflection and remember the personal memories I shared