Dear NaNa & PaPa,
I appreciate all the love you have given me throughout my life. From the very beginning, you have been my biggest supporters, and I carry that love with me every single day. When I was diagnosed 13 years ago, I know it must have been scary for you. Nana, I’ll never forget how fiercely you tried to protect me from the sun, bringing an umbrella everywhere we went, worried about me playing outside. At the time, I didn’t always understand, but I know now that it was because you were scared—you just wanted to keep me safe. And Papa, thank you for letting me take over your kitchen and experiment with baking. Without you, I probably never would have become the chef and baker I am today. You sparked something in me that led to my cookie business, and that’s a gift I will always cherish. I know our relationship changed when I got sick, but that didn’t stop you from bringing joy into my life. I loved visiting you, being spoiled, and hanging out with my cousins. Those moments gave me a sense of normalcy when JDM tried to take it away. You were a highlight of my childhood—my safe space, where I wasn’t just a kid with an illness, but simply a child having fun.
Papa, I miss you so much. I was in high school when you went to be with the Lord, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. I miss your laugh, your jokes, and the warmth you brought into every room. I still haven’t played Spades since you passed because you were the one who taught me, and it just doesn’t feel the same without you. I remember watching you get sick, and in many ways, our roles switched—I started caring for you, cooking for you, and trying to give you the same love you had always given me. One of my favorite memories is all the time we spent in the kitchen together. You were always my handyman, making sure I had everything I needed—whether it was building a ramp out of two slabs of wood so I could get in and out of your house or grabbing a folding table so I could cook from my wheelchair. You didn’t have much, but you always found a way to accommodate me, to make me feel special and seen. That kind of love is rare, and I will never stop being grateful for it. You meant so much to me that I even dedicated a cookie in my business to you. Every time I bake it, I think about you—about our time together in the kitchen, about the love and patience you showed me, and about how much I wish you were still here to taste it. I still make your cookie for your birthday, Christmas, and every special holiday. It’s my way of honoring you, keeping your memory alive, and making sure that a part of you is always with me. No matter how much time passes, those moments in the kitchen will always be some of my most treasured memories.
Nana, you made my childhood a joy in so many ways. I have so many stories that still make me laugh—like you letting me spend all your money at the grocery store or making sure me and my cousins always had matching outfits. You always made sure I felt included, even when my body wasn’t cooperating with me. At some point, I saw your fear shift. You became less afraid and more focused on making sure I was happy, because you knew how much I struggled. Now that I’m an adult, our relationship has changed, but in the best way. You’re still my safe place, the person I call late at night when I can’t sleep, just to talk about life, gossip, or share something random I saw on the internet. No matter what’s going on, I know I can always count on you to listen. And of course, you’re also the first person I run to when I know I did something stupid! You never judge me, even when you probably should, and somehow, you always know the right thing to say. Whether it’s giving me advice, telling me a funny story, or just making me laugh, you always make everything feel a little lighter.
In the beginning, navigating an illness as complex as JDM was incredibly hard. But through it all, you both were my safe space. With you, I wasn’t just a child with a disability—I was a child who got to experience love, laughter, and joy. Papa, I wish you could have seen me grow up, but I know you’re watching over me, guiding me, and still cheering me on from above.
I love you both so much. Thank you for everything.
Your crazy girl,
Zamya Sumling
