When I was a kid, back in Morocco, I would walk past my grandparents' house everyday on my way to the bus stop. And everyday, my grandpa or grandma would be waiting for me in their garden with a piece of chocolate. In a sea of happy childhood memories, that one stands out the most for some reason.
He died a few years ago when we were in Montreal, and I never got to say goodbye. She died last year on my birthday, but I made it back home just in time to see her one last time.
I love you both, and I miss you.