There is a very specific time in my life that I truly regret not having any photographs of. This point in time is the last week I spent with my Maternal Grandmother before she suddenly passed away. I was twelve years old and Gram had come down from Northern Maine to spend a week with us in the summer. I was enrolled in a summer writing camp at UNH and she was in charge of driving me to camp and then entertaining my little brother until it was time to pick me up in the afternoon. After camp, Gram would take my brother on countless adventures to the beach, the lake, and the mountains. In the evenings, my Gram, my Mom, and I would all work together to make dinner for the family. My family has no record of this week, because we had no idea that it would be the last time we would ever see Gram again. I deeply regret not having any photographs of my Gram from that week and it has taught me to cherish every moment I have with my loved ones.
