July is a month of birthdays. Our country was born on the 4th. My daughter on the 10th. Disneyland on the 17th. 

I wasn't there the day our country was born, nor the day Disneyland opened, yet sometimes I imagine I was. 

That's because births are easy to celebrate.

July is also a month for me of deaths. Both of my maternal grandparents died in July. First my grandma, Baba, on July 25, 1995. Then nine years later, my grandpa, Dido, on July 17, 2004.

Baba and Dido were Disneyland, 4th of July and a longed-for baby girl all rolled into one. The joy they brought to me and the love they gave me can't be put into words. It can only be celebrated.

So much life has happened since Baba and Dido graduated to heaven. So many heartaches and so many celebrations. Sometimes it feels like they never left. Sometimes I forget they're gone.

In our last months together, Baba wasn't the same. She'd had three strokes that left her left side paralyzed, changed her priorities and stripped away her to-do list. I'd often sit in her hospital bed with her and we'd pretend to be on vacation, giggling and being silly. In those moments, we had all the time in the world to just be together. And we were.

But all the time in the world is still never enough. A girl needs her grandma just as much at 38 as she did when she was 8.

Dido's death really blew us out of the water. He was 90, so I'm not sure why it was so unexpected. He would always say, "Kristy, you don't know what it's like to be 90." At that time, I was pregnant with our son, and I'd answer, "Dido, you don't know what it's like to be pregnant." And we'd both laugh.

How I miss their laughter. And how I wish they were still here.

But sometimes, when my son grins at me, I swear I'm looking at Dido. And every now and again my daughter says something so poignant, it's almost like I'm hearing Baba's voice. Maybe it's something in the North Dakota air. Or maybe my kids have picked up the personalities of the great-grandparents they never knew, simply because they're growing up in the same place.

Yes, July is a month filled for me with important things like celebrations and family. It's a time to remember those who have gone before and hold close those who are still here. Because between the celebration of life and the graduation of death, we have but a few breaths to behold the laughter of our loved ones. 

Who in your life has graduated to heaven and how did their life shape yours? What legacy do you hope to leave for your children and grandchildren?