For old times

While reading 'Looking for Alaska', another book by the great author of 'The faults in our stars', I thought to myself 'such a shitty book', with what felt like 1000 pages.
Alaska, a sad and overly confident girl, who still seems to captivate everyone and dies in her car one night. Around her, an infatuated nerd and the shallow investigation into the reasons for her death. Oh, I see.
One afternoon, I sit on the beach and struggle through the story. And then I reach the last pages. And suddenly my eyes fly through the lines. And finally, the book catches my attention. Finally, I find myself again. Inevitably, the image of my grandpa flashes before my eyes, who passed away shortly before my trip.

'I don't know where there is but I know it's somewhere and I hope it's beautiful.'
For the first time in a while, I think of you again, the last weeks with you, the family gatherings in your living room. For the first time, I think back and the memory still hits me like a wave. I sit in one of the most beautiful places in the world with tears in my eyes and imagine you were here for a moment. Sitting beside me. Giving me a kiss on the cheek.
I wish I could tell you how things are going for me in Australia, what I'm experiencing and how bravely I'm coping. I'm sure you would be proud of your little granddaughter, and I know you would tell me that I just have to go through it if I were to confess that not everything is perfect.
I never believed in anything, God, heaven, life afterward.. Even now, I don't believe that you're sitting somewhere with your cup of coffee, watching me struggle through life.
And yet, I know you're here with me right now. And I know you're so close to me that I don't know whether to cry with joy or sorrow.
My head filled with memories, my heart filled with happiness and pain. I have images in my mind that make me laugh and tear my heart apart. The afternoons when you told your stories. Your old camera, which was only brought out for special occasions. Your thin wrists in your final weeks. Your tired eyes.
For an hour, I let myself be overwhelmed by your memories, sitting alone on the beach with my music playing in my ears, crying and smiling.
It's as if we both sat down together and flipped through an old photo album. Laughing together. Crying together. It feels like it used to.
Then I return to my own little life, and you become unreachable again.
Thank you for the beautiful time, and I hope it's beautiful wherever you are!