My great-grandpa promised we'd see the world when I turned 18. He died before we could, so I traveled for both of us.

• I was 8 when my great-grandfather was in his 80s, and I visited him every Sunday.
• He always said that when I turned 18, we would travel the world together.
• As a kid, I held onto his promise and wanted to see the world by his side.

My great-grandfather and I didn't have much in common growing up. He was in his 80s, and I was just 8. Most of the time, he wanted to discuss things that didn't make sense to me, like politics or how the family of someone I had never heard of was doing.

However, there was one thing that kept me very close to him. Every Sunday when we visited, without fail, we would sit together, and he'd say the same thing: "When you turn 18, you and I will travel the world together. Do you have your passport ready?" He would then continue to talk about some places worldwide, like Venice or The Netherlands.

I didn't fully understand what "traveling the world" meant then, but I believed him. He had a way of making places he had never visited sound familiar. He'd describe the canals of Venice as if he had walked along them, weaving in comparisons and tales from things he probably read elsewhere. Everything sounded so authentic and appealing that sometimes it felt like he would be the perfect guide for each of those places he mentioned.

But he died before we could travel together.

As a kid, I believed in his promise so much that I looked forward to traveling with him

I held onto his promise as if it were a certainty. I would ask my mom to buy magazines so I could see what was happening in those countries or cities. I was obsessed with anything related to travel to the point that whenever I saw a plane, I would exclaim, "That's where I'm going to go with Grandpa."

It never occurred to me that it wouldn't happen.

I had never experienced the death of someone close to me before, so I didn't consider it a possibility, but then, eight months after my 15th birthday, on July 1st, he died. Losing him was painful; I understood he was old, but for the first time, I realized I would never have the chance again to experience the world through my grandpa's eyes. The promise of traveling the world had been something I had looked forward to for years, and suddenly, it was gone.

For a while, I avoided thinking about it. I had to finish school, go to university, and focus on what I wanted my adult life to be. But as I got older, something shifted. I realized I didn't want to let go of the dream. If we couldn't see the world together, I decided to see it for both of us.

I still keep our promise alive

When I turned 19, I began traveling as soon as I could, and my first destination was Madrid. It wasn't precisely the destination we discussed the most, but I knew I was getting closer to our stories of Italy and Holland. I already felt he was traveling with me, but to honor our promise, I established a personal tradition: every July 1st, I would spend the day somewhere new. It became my way of honoring him.

Over the years, I've visited places I know he would have loved. I walked through the canals of Amsterdam, sat in the green grass near the Eiffel Tower, and ate while crossing the cozy streets with pretty gondolas in Venice. Each trip is an opportunity to reconnect with those childhood memories, and whenever I visit a place he once told me about, I try to imagine what he would have said if he were standing next to me. Would he be amazed, or would he find the reality different from what he had imagined?

Even now, more than a decade later, I continue this tradition. For some years, I have visited countries like New Zealand or Australia, which, although he never mentioned, I know he would have loved to see. Other times, I revisit places that hold special meanings, like The Netherlands.

No matter where I go, I always take a moment to sit quietly, take in the view, and think of him.