When I woke up Wednesday morning, I saw a message on my phone that I had been dreading for a long time. It was from my mother. She wrote me to let me know that her mother, my grandmother Dina, had just passed away

Dina was an incredible woman. She was a Holocaust survivor. Almost every single member of her family was murdered by the Nazis. She was one of the lucky ones who escaped

She was a teenager when her family was taken from her. Shortly thereafter, she met my grandfather, who had also just lived through the anguish of having his entire family murdered by the Nazis

They fell in love and built and incredible life together. They started an agricultural school, built a dairy farm, and they both spent the majority of their lives lifting others up. Teaching. Helping. Loving

They lived through immense hardships. Wars. Famine. Dina fought and beat cancer more than once. They were together for over 70 years. And in those years they built a family. A family that has grown and spread out all over the world

Two people, from different countries, from two different families ravaged by the atrocities of truly evil forces, came together and built new families, new communities, a testament to the will and strength of simple and good people

They gave so much to the world around them, but to me, the thing I am most thankful for, is the one daughter they created together: my mother

The spirit of my grandmother, Dina, lives on so strongly in the heart and soul of my mother. She too has lived a difficult life. She too has fought and beaten cancer multiple times. She too has built an unbreakable web of love out of family and friends

My grandmother lives many thousands of miles away, and I didn’t get to see her as often as I should have, but my memories are all joyous. Every last one. Even sad moments like this are softened by the overwhelming nature of her loving heart

We were not able to attend the funeral, due to travel restrictions set in place by the current pandemic. But we attended via zoom, which I can only imagine would have really delighted Dina. She would have thought it was funny and ridiculous. She never lost her sense of humor

She passed away peacefully and painlessly. She lived 98 years on this earth and the earth was better for having her

The last time I saw her in person was five years ago. I went with my mother to visit and we stayed for a few days. On the last day I felt compelled to take a few pictures, knowing, of course, that eventually these would be all I had left

So, on Wednesday morning, when she left her body, I looked back at the photos and found one that felt particularly impactful (I’m crying a lot as I write this just to be honest)

It was a picture of my mother and my grandmother, the two strongest women I’ve ever known, walking arm in arm. But, of course, there was something else there. Something that fills my heart with grief and absolute joy all at once: an exit sign

My mother, escorting her mother, to the exit. It’s perfect. And as I sit here sobbing, I am so grateful that the twists and turns of life allow me to feel something so deeply, even if it is pain. As the pain will soon turn sweet, I am sure of it

Dina always said (and I’m translating) “it’ll be good.” And if you asked her why it was in the future tense, she would say “because it is bad.” In her mind, all bad things would eventually turn good, and I know now that she was right