I was an unusual kid–creative and curious, with a penchant for the strange. I looked at the world differently, and I wasn’t interested in many of the same things as my peers. In a lot of ways, I was about 40 by the age of four, so I often preferred the company of grownups. Among my favorites was my grandmother, Leora.

Leora was my mother’s mother, and they were very close. Living on a farm with a family of seven (my mother the only girl with four brothers), they spent a lot of time together taking care of things around the house while the boys worked outside. The two women, though very different in demeanor, complimented each other perfectly and made a great team.

Leora was a straight-shooter and confident without ostentation. She could talk to anybody. I remember one breakfast with her when I was about five. The local diner, Smokey Hollow, lived up to its name. The air was always blue with cigarette smoke. The tables were set up in one long row, and it felt like the entire town was there every Saturday morning. My grandma was telling a story. I don’t remember what the story was about, but I remember how she told it. All eyes were on her as she held court, keeping everyone laughing. It was effortless and inviting. I wanted to be like that.

She loved to camp and fish, but also painted her nails and got her hair done. She was tough, but fair. She moved effortlessly between things that might seem like contradictions on the surface, but in her, they made perfect sense. Most of all, she was loving. You could feel it radiate off of her. As a kid who felt different most of the time, the way she loved me just for being me meant the world.

We lost Leora to lung cancer before my 10th birthday. It was the kind of loss that lingers. It creeps up at unexpected moments and hangs around at the corners. But it taught me that the impact a relationship has on our lives has less to do with how long it lasts, and more to do with what it makes us feel. I didn’t get to know my grandma, even into my teenage years, but I see so much of her in my adult self. She taught me a lot in that short time. And more than anything, I can still feel her love radiating all around.