When I was 22, my grandmother died. She was my favorite person. She didn't have a lot of money, but each of us grandchildren got a check for $3,000 from the will. I really, really wanted to do something special with that money, something to honor my grandmother, but I was young and dumb and broke, and it evaporated into rent and burritos and drinks and cigarettes and all the other "necessities" of my young, dumb 22-year-old life. I have had an "IOU" to myself for that money ever since and promised myself that one day, when I had an "extra" $3,000, that would be "grandma's money," and I'd do something special with it.
Living with family as an adult is often framed as a "failure to launch," but navigating grief at home with my mom and younger sister helped me rethink growth. Living at home in my 20s wasn't easy at first, but after my dad died, living together became a lifeline that transformed my understanding of what adulthood truly means.