Nana is how my kids called their grandmother, my mom. Today is the first anniversary of her death. I wrote to my siblings in Mexico, my daughter in college and my son, who is with his dad this weekend.

My mom used to visit us in Nashville, from Mexico City, every summer to spend time with my kids so I could work while school was off. We spent countless hours at Radnor Lake, one of our favorite spots to go for a walk after I came back from work and before dinner time. When Nana died my kids were not able to go with me to Mexico City, so I brought some ashes with me. Last summer we took a walk with their dad (we are divorced, but he loved her too) to say goodbye to her together. Yesterday, on her first anniversary of her death, I went back alone.