Going on a road trip with my grandmother was an incredible experience, and now we're close friends.
Nicole Hayek
Weeks before moving home from college, my mom told me my grandfather was sick.Although I saw my grandparents as often as I could, it was challenging to see them regularly because they split their time between Florida — where I lived — and New Jersey. Plus, I got used to the idea that they would always be there, no matter how many times I saw them throughout the year.Once I learned the news of my grandfather's illness, I began seeing them much more frequently whenever they were in Florida. Whether we were drinking milkshakes, watching TV, or talking for hours, each evening with them was a memory I'll never forget.After he passed, just nine months after his diagnosis, I spent many nights sitting at his desk in their New Jersey home, looking at old notes that would eventually be thrown away.I memorized the photos and the New York Yankees memorabilia plastered around the office, including the picture of my sister and me, which was directly in sight of his desk.Weeks after his passing, my 85-year-old grandmother packed up her belongings in New Jersey, as she decided to permanently move back to Florida. Since I also needed to return the car I had borrowed for the summer, she and I made a last-minute decision to take an 18-hour road trip down the coast together.This journey marked the start of a new reality for my grandma and, surprisingly, for me, too.Swapping stories while on the road sprouted an unexpected friendship
