My paternal grandmother died the day before my White Coat Ceremony. David's maternal grandmother died the day before our wedding, and his paternal grandmother died a couple weeks later.

And now my maternal grandmother has died - the day before I start residency. David and I no longer have living grandparents.

Four grandmothers lost in four years. And all during important life events. Timing is a funny thing.

There is something about the loss of my maternal grandmother - my Po Po - that feels different this time around. I do know what that something is. It's the legacy she left.

I am not exaggerating when I say that my Po Po exuded pure joy, love, and positivity all the time. I am not exaggerating when I say that I do not know a kinder, more generous heart. She is the cream of the crop of human beings and now she has passed away.

But her legacy lives on in our family. My mom's side of the family is a jubilant, loving, generous bunch. They are a pleasure to spend time with and I mean that for all the dozens and dozens of them. And it all trickled down from the top.

In the end, it does matter that people visit you in your last days. It does matter that people attend your funeral. Meaningful relationships are what make life a worthy life. And my Po Po's life was worth so, so much.

Her personality was full of life. That is why I could not believe, even with my clinical background, that she would pass away so soon. It wasn't just denial and wishing she would live longer, it was because she lived and loved with so much oomph. I did not think it would only be a few more weeks. But I was so lucky to be able to visit her twice in those last few weeks. Especially her last week.

I frankly went to Winnipeg a little begrudgingly the second time. Not believing she was that close to death, I thought buying tickets to fly out the next day was somewhat wasteful. But we went, and it was one of the most grateful and memorable experiences I will ever have.

We arrived on Tuesday 6/10/14 in the evening. She was alert and conversant, but significantly weaker than she had been 3 weeks prior and now whispering. She was able to take pictures with our Uncle Pak. On Wednesday morning, I was able to show her my medical school yearbook, where I included pictures of her and my mom from our wedding in Winnipeg the year prior, as well as my Bak Fu on the American River. I was able to ask her if she liked David better with or without a beard, and she was able to tell me without a beard. She was able to tell the pastor that she wishes for god to take care of our "good" auntie. Then on Wednesday afternoon, she would not really be able to talk again.

David and I spent the night in the hospital Friday night, and we were so grateful for that night. We comforted her when she needed comforting (she liked being petted). We were just there for her. David and I held each of her hands, we kissed each other in her line of sight, and she turned her head as if in response. The first time we saw her move her head in days. The ambience of the room was very peaceful because it was lit by a lotus flower lamp brought by the Buddhist temple, which changed colors every minute or so. She also appreciated having a picture of Buddha in the room. My aunt came at 11pm to bring us snacks and dessert. While I was in the washroom, she said thank you to David and hugged him, crying on his shoulder. Then I joined in on the hug. I laid my head on her pillow and just cried...knowing goodbye was coming soon.

We said our goodbye Saturday night as our flight was Sunday morning. I told her I would take care of Helen and mom; don't worry about them, don't worry about us. David thanked her because without her, he would not have me. He felt like he didn't get enough time with her. I do feel the same way, because I only saw her every few years. But I don't dwell because her impact on me is not any less.

And then she passed away on Sunday morning 6/15/14 while we were driving to the airport. At 4:40am.

David's and my wedding banquet was my grandma's last. She couldn't make it to my medical school graduation, but knew I had officially become a doctor and that her sister was there to see me graduate. I will hold these facts close to my heart.

Like I hold close to my heart that my paternal grandmother knew I was accepted into medical school and on my way to becoming a doctor. Like David and I hold close to our heart that his maternal grandmother was invited to our wedding, and was so excited to attend (her granddaughter, David's cousin, didn't invite her to her wedding).

I am not devastated by the loss of my Po Po. Partially because her legacy is such a wonderful one that the sadness is balanced with laughter and love, and partially because I'm starting to master the concept that all things are temporary and everything must come to an end.