A letter to my Grandmother Alice who passed away in 2015

Charles Lincon
3 min readJun 8, 2024


This letter will never be able to do justice to you and what you have done for me. I write this while listening to young Bach thhat he dedicated it to his brother. I wish we could attend a Bach concerto together. I wish we could do so much Grandma.

My Dearest Grandmother Alice,

There are days when the veil of time feels so thin that I can almost reach through and touch the moments we shared. Your presence, though absent, lingers like the delicate scent of jasmine in the evening air, weaving its way into my thoughts and memories, filling the spaces with warmth and love.

You were the anchor of my childhood, the quiet force that shaped my understanding of love, resilience, and grace. I can still see you, sitting by the window, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, your eyes filled with stories untold and wisdom quietly bestowed. Your laughter was a melody that danced through the rooms of our home, a song that I carry with me, always.

In my heart, I replay the symphony of our shared moments. The gentle touch of your hand, the soft murmur of your voice, the way your eyes would light up with each new tale — you were my first storyteller, my guide into the realm of imagination and history. Every word you spoke, every smile you gave, was a gift, a piece of you that I hold dear.

You saved my soul in ways I never could have imagined. By introducing me to Ancient Greek thought, to the Great Books, to the profound dialogues of Plato and Aristotle, and the epic journey through Dante’s Inferno, you opened up my soul and breathed life into the deepest corners of my mind. You planted the seeds of wisdom and curiosity, and from them grew a garden of understanding that has shaped my very essence. In those texts, I found not only knowledge but a lifeline, a way to navigate the complexities of existence.

The world feels less bright without you, a canvas missing its most vibrant hues. Yet, in the quiet solitude of my thoughts, I find you. In the rustle of leaves, in the whisper of the wind, in the soft twilight of the evening sky — I find you. Your spirit, your essence, is woven into the fabric of my being, an indelible part of who I am.

I miss you with an ache that words can scarcely capture. The void left by your absence is a testament to the profound impact you had on my life. But even in this absence, there is presence. I see you in the mirror of my actions, in the kindness I strive to emulate, in the strength I summon in moments of trial. You are there, a guiding star in the constellation of my existence.

Thank you, Grandmother, for the love you gave so freely, for the lessons you imparted with such grace. You are my muse, my inspiration, the silent companion on my journey through life. Until we meet again, in whatever realm lies beyond, I carry you with me, always.

With all my love and eternal gratitude,




Charles Lincon

Renaissance literature, Shakespeare, Hegelian dialectics, Attic Greek, masters University of Amsterdam.