Hey Pandas, What’s Your Most Cherished Memory With A Loved One Who’s Passed? (Closed)

Growing up, a lonely boy in a nasty household, my 6-month-old Boxer dog puppy Sandy crawled on my lap, gave me the most purely loving look, then gave me the lightest lick. This was the first time I felt loved. He saved my life. Sandy (1965 to 1976), I miss him everyday.

There are so many things about my mom, but I never forget this one. There were many times, growing up, when we didn't have any money to spare at all. I must have been five or six and there was a store in our neighborhood that sold women's clothing. In the window was a little cream-colored leather purse. I remember it vividly, it was not at all high class or even that well-made. I loved it, I thought, in my little girl mind, that it was the most elegant thing I'd ever seen. I didn't mention it because it seemed so beyond my reach. My mom must have seen my longing and saved for I don't know how long. She bought me that silly little cream-colored purse. Just a great mom and I miss her so much.

I was in 4th grade when COVID hit so bad, and so school in 5th grade was kind of wonky. The couple of weeks between Thanksgiving break and
Winter break, a lot of kids were out sick. One day there was only 4 of us in the class. Me, my very close friend Sebastian, and 2 other people. I was getting bullied by a couple of kids in the class, but they all were gone that day and the 2 other kids were pretty nice mostly. For our ELA section of the day we were talking about theme and plot, so we watched some of those Pixar shorts and wrote about them.

Since there was only 4 of us, we finished very quickly. We then watched some more Pixar and Disney clips from movies. Eventually it just turned to us taking turns choosing Disney songs, and we all sang and danced. I remember it as one of the most carefree days of the year, dancing with my best friend and not worrying about being teased. This was a couple weeks before he passed, and I still remember it fondly from time to time.

It’s been almost 4 years, and I still cry myself to sleep at least once a month. I live in a different city, I have multiple friends, and I’m not getting bullied anymore, but I would go back to those lonely, anxiety filled days if I could see him one more time and say goodbye. The months following his death were the worst of my life, but I distinctly remember the carefree joy I felt in those moments, bouncing around to When Will My Life Begin.

Gosh, I miss him so much. I’m gonna go cry now 🥲

Although he had had his first surgery at one month and had lived his whole life in the hospital because his health was so tenuous, when my son was about six months old, his myriad congenital health problems took an even darker turn. When our family would visit him every chance we got, we watched him start to waste away. Shadows formed under his eyes as they sunk in, his movements became slower and less frequent, and he rarely could concentrate enough to make/keep eye contact or be responsive to others.

One day when I went in to see him, he was particularly worn down. His eyes were barely open and he hardly moved at all. As I was the only one who was able to visit my son that day, I decided to get a picture to take back to everyone else, even though the baby wore his struggle on and in every inch of his body. I took one picture, talking and cooing to him; sure enough, he looked deflated. So I told him about how excited his sisters and Daddy were to be able to see his picture since they couldn't be there and how they were so sad to not be there so they NEEDED to see his picture. As I talked, he somehow engaged with me and nobody knows how - his health had been declining since the womb, honestly, and he was so much closer to passing on than we realized at that time. But he opened his eyes and, as quickly as I could, I snapped a picture. Hoping and praying for the best, I looked at it and found my beautiful baby boy, eyes wide open, smiling with all his heart and soul.

That picture is currently on my bedroom wall, watching over me as I type. It has kept me company for well over a decade now and, as grief knows no expiration date, sometimes it cuts me to the bone just to look at my boy and face that I can't be with him. But I know I'll see my little one again; I'm just so grateful to have had time with him and to be able to now share that with you. Cheers.

my boxer, evie. yeah, most people think of other people but for me this was one loved one that left a hole that no other will ever fill. she came to me around 3 months old as she had dragged herself into my garage to basically die. when i found her i had no intention of keeping but took her to the vet. after she recovered she was in her forever home.

when she was around 13 i had been having a lot of stress and just needed to get some quiet time. a family member had a cabin in the woods by a lake and offered it to me for the weekend. evie and i would take long walks in the woods every day but the best part was playing hide and seek. she would trot off to investigate something and i would hide and then watch her nose go to work following my scent. when she found me we would jump and celebrate. yes...silly, i know. but, when i think of her i think of that time when the snow was on the ground and we just walked and played by the lake. i miss her every day and it's been 16 yrs.

i grew up in the san francisco bay area where every early october, the navy and the city have "fleet week". i have always been VERY interested in ships and the sea. when i was in the 6th grade (1980) my dad heard that there were ships giving tours. he couldn't drive but persuaded my older brother to drive us to one of the ships. we missed it by ten minutes. i remember my dad begging with the guard at the gate to just allow me to walk down the pier so i could get a close look at the ship. but rules are rules. he died two years later in february 1982 at the age of 61.

My Aunt Ruth really shaped who I am. Less a favorite memory, more of a favorite person. She was the only person I'm my life who saw me. I'm adopted by family and I felt often like I didn't belong. She made me feel like I mattered. She taught me to be me. She was an amazing woman and I miss her terribly. Before she passed away I was able to share with her how thankful I was that she supported me and that she helped me be me.

When I was 19 I found my real birth certificate by accident, and discovered that the man who raised me was not my birth father. We had a contentious relationship in my teens, and it was the first time I said "I love you Daddy" to him in many years.
But the sweetest thing he ever said to me was "I CHOSE to be your father. Them other four (my siblings) just showed up."

When I was little my mom would do an impression of a dead bug, she'd curl up on her back and stick her hands and feet in the air. I loved that she had a strange sense of humor. RIP Mom🕊

It was during the last conversation my brother and I had with our Nan. She had had a stroke almost a year before, so she was physically and mentally gone. But she had some memories. We were talking about spiders, when she said: "Debbies afraid of spiders." We were surprised cos she showed that she had retained some of her memories. She then said: "I remember one spider, it was huge. I had him on my chest and I was stroking him and he was purring his eyes out." My Granddad said: "I think that was a cat, Joe." And she replied: "No, it was a spider." She passed a few months later and my Granddad after her about a week and half later. No matter how sad I feel at their passing, I always remember that conversation and it makes me smile.

My beloved mother. She died 3 years ago, age 95+. Clear as a bell until the end. The last time I saw her was at her seniors residence. I gave a mini-concert (piano) for her and other residents. All her favourite pieces. She was wearing one of her usual glam outfits. She died rather suddenly two weeks later. We buried her in that same glam outfit (elegant jacket and pants).

When I was about 4. "Helping" my Grandfather hitch up one of the workhorses to the stoneboat and riding along with him holding his leg for support.

when i saw my grandfather for the what i thought & he did too, the last time-. I got to spend time with him once more and everything had been said & it was great.

I have always been close to my parents, now passed, so it's hard to pick out just one. I do particularly love my memories of travelling with my Dad overseas. Mum couldn't travel as her heart and general health was poor, so I went to the UK with Dad while she was still alive, so Dad could meet his half-sister. We always went twin share, so Dad's first job was to get up first and check out how the bathroom facilities worked. These were often quirky especially in England, and especially in B&B's. We also travelled after Mum was gone, though we were pretty sure she came along in spirit! We were particularly aware of her when we travelled RyanAir from Gatwick to Dublin. Anyway, no matter what happened, we always had a good laugh over it between ourselves. Like in Kuala Lumpur, being witness to a Malaysian guy having a meltdown because he missed the plane. He was demanding they let him run across the tarmac to join the end of the queue boarding. He reckoned he was a personal friend of a Government Minister who lent him helicopters. The dignified Indian gentleman in charge suggested he do just that seeing as he was not getting on THIS flight. We tried to stifle our laughter. Then there were the various owners of B&B's and hotels - many of them very odd. Like the one in Hastings who wouldn't help out on a query until he had finished his prayers. Or the Scottish lady who apologised profusely for not putting a chocolate on our pillows because she was too tipsy to get up the stairs after a few wee drams at a wedding she's attended. Her husband was an ex-Navy cook who worried that I wasn't getting my money's worth because I didn't want a full Scottish breakfast! Lovely people. Best of all were the many stories Dad shared of his fascinating life. Ahhh! Love you, Mum and Dad.

My grandfather loved golf. Every week, he would religiously go golfing. One Christmas when I was a wee panda (maybe 5 or 6), I got him this novelty soap that was in the shape of three golf balls. It was in the golf ball box and all. Fast forward about a year or two, I'm golfing with him, and he lost his ball. He got a new one out of his bag, dropped it, and *thunk*. All I saw was two chunks of what we thought was golf ball split in the air and go different directions. My grandfather had forgot they were soap and earned another stroke because of it. Simple, yet still makes me laugh while tearing up.

When I was a child, my dad would have me help with the lights on the Christmas tree. Back then they were not cheap and disposable like they are now, so every year we would test them and, if a string didn’t light, dad would fix it. He showed me how and it was our special time together. I looked forward to it every year.

My dad also liked cars and did some racing in his youth, so when I was old enough to enter the Soapbox Derby in our town, my dad took me to the park to sign me up. We were both so excited! Except… girls were not allowed to compete. My dad was furious and let EVERYONE know about it. A couple of the fathers there agreed with him and tried to talk the guy into letting me compete. No dice, but I’ll always be proud of my dad- he knew that I could do anything and being a girl shouldn’t mean I had to take a back seat to anybody.

My summer before college was a rough one. One day I was hanging out with my dad, watching the sprinklers waste water on his magnificent lawn. He got a gleam in his eye and said "I'll race you to the shed." So I said "okay!" He counted down & said "go!" And I started running as fast as I could.

That's when I became aware that my dad was still standing on the porch. He had tricked me as a joke, so that I'd get soaked from the sprinklers. But here's where it really became comedic. When I noticed he wasn't running, I TRIED TO STOP. Well, the grass was quite wet, so I slipped. Somehow my legs went way up into the air, & then I fell on my back in a splash. It was ridiculous. Bugs Bunny would have been proud. And as I laid there, laughing too hard to get up, the sprinkler came over & dripped on my face. My dad was laughing so hard he couldn't even help me up. He was doubled over.

Man, I needed that laugh! There was so much wrong that summer, but that moment with my dad was priceless. I always knew I was lucky to have such a great dad. But I only realized after he died - after I'd heard from so many people about what he meant to them - that he was also a great man. I miss you, Dad.

When I was about 11 in the early 90's my dad heard a song while listning to AM radio he liked the song so much he went out & bought the album on tape. At that age my house chore was doing the dishes in the evening after supper, I liked to listen to music while I was doing it. There was one song on the album I love. It had a decent beat and was just silly. I listened to that song for probably a good two months; then I forgot about it. Fast forward to my late 20's one evening the song popped into my head. So I went online to listen too it, see if I still liked it. I find it & play it. The song was about sex; (just for the record I still like the song). However I was quite surprised. So the next weekend when I was doing my normal weekend call to my parents I told my Dad that I'd listened to it & it was about sex. My Dad pretending to be surprised said "it is?". As if he didn't know lol, the fact that it had completely gone over my head as a kid still makes me smile.

In the event anyone wants to look it up The band was The Texas Tornados, the song Guaqcamole. That's not the song he bought the album for, he heard the song Romona (I didn't like that one then or now).

In the mid 2000's my best friend (since highschool) & her husband ( if I had a brother he'd be it) came to visit my ex-husband and me in the state we lived in at the time; (My ex's home state we moved to after we married; I hated every second we were there). We lived in a small rural town that was in the middle of nowehere & full of hate and racism. The four of us decided to go bowling. Best friends husband was a former Marine & had a conceled carry permit he wore that double holster everywhere. My best friend & I begged him not to wear it into the bowling alley, he did anyway. So we get our shoes and lane we'd been there about 10 min and the police walk in & ask him if they could speak to him outside (so he went with him). I said to my friend I bet they called the police because he's black. A min or two later he comes back in, and we ask "well"? His reply word for word "they called the cops on me because I'm a darkie." She and I glance at each other & at the same time we both said "the cop said darkie?" He said "no hed said African American". So almost 20 years later we're still best friends, I'm happily divorced, Live in a wonderful state, and sadly her husband passed away a few years ago. However we have laughed about the bowling alley incident ever since it happened.

A few years before my dad passed, I took him to a concert. I'm sure he didn't know what to expect and was a bit apprehensive about the whole thing.
The Tony- and Emmy-awarded show was the touring company of the Broadway show, Blast! Afterwards, he said it was the best show he'd ever seen. Luckily, today, I can still revisit the show itself on YouTube: "Blast! - DCI Broadway Show" if you're interested.