It’s a warm day as my mom and I are driving home from school. The sky is blue and the radio is turned up with the Royals vs. Orioles game on. This game might seem trivial, but it matters.

There’s a lot riding on it, the final game. If the Royals win, they advance to the World Series for the first time since 1985. It’s been 29 years, and it’s so close I can taste it.

My mom leans forward in her seat, eyes focused on the road, her face blank. It’s her team from her hometown, the one she grew up with and has come to adore.

The game is almost over, just one out left.

My mom comes to a red light and looks eagerly at the radio as the final pitch is thrown and then all in an instant it’s over. They won.

My mom throws her hands in there air with a loud YES! For a moment, happiness washes over us. For a moment we both sit and smile, relishing in victory.

But then that moment is over.

And then her face falls and I can see tears welling up in her eyes but I can’t figure out why. The game’s over, we won.

So why the tears? Why the sadness I can see in her eyes?

And then it all clicks into place with one phrase.

“My grandpa would have loved this.”

And suddenly the tears and sorrow make sense. Because her grandpa would have loved this.

But he’s gone.

Maybe if it hadn’t been just less than a year ago, if it hadn’t been so sudden, then maybe, just maybe it would hurt less. Maybe my mom wouldn’t be crying, or if so, with tears of joy. She’d be smiling and still yelling with excitement, happy with the win.

But it was still so recent, and it had been sudden. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.

With the others, we knew.

They had all been sick for awhile. Both sets great-grandparents, both grandpas.

My dad’s dad was one of the worst and the first one I can remember.

I remember making a little origami cat, placing it on his bed side the night he died.

I said my goodbye.

I smiled, not understanding what was going on, what was happening.

I knew that he was going somewhere, but no one explains to a second grader that someone they love will soon be gone.

I always knew they would be going, and I always thought that maybe it would be easier if I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have to see a loved one in pain; I wouldn’t have to say the final goodbye knowing I would never see them again. I would only have the happy memory of my last visit.

I thought it wouldn’t hurt so much.

But as I place a rose on the casket and whisper my goodbye…

I realize.

Not knowing isn’t any easier.