My biggest fear has always been being alone. The idea of not having any company and losing my loved ones has always been such a tough subject for me to talk about with anyone, including myself. There comes a point in life though where you have to let go and cope with your loss of someone that you are close with. I have learned growing up that nothing always stay the same and that there is always an ending to something. My grandmother’s death was the experience that taught me how to cope with this loss.

I could say that the closest I ever got to my father was my paternal grandmother since I barely interacted with my father. She would tell me stories about him growing up and how he is in general. I had always slept in his old room when I would sleep over and look through their old albums. In a sense, being with my grandmother made me feel like I had a dad and that my parents were not divorced; it made me feel like a normal kid who had both of their parents, which made me happy. Not having my father around growing up has made me feel like I am not wanted and lonely. My grandmother was also someone who I had also considered as a friend. We would do arts and crafts on her patio while eating cookies and cracking jokes. I would not call her by “grandma” or “ma”; I would call her by her name, “Brit.” Brit was a great friend to have who was always there for me.

Two-thousand seven was a big year for me because everything was changing for me: new school, new car, new pets, and new experiences. I was so busy that year that I was not visiting, or talking to Brit as frequently as I usually did. Every time I asked, my mom if I could see her, my mom would make up some excuse that she was too “busy to see me right now.” In the back of my mind, I knew that something was wrong but I was too blind to realize what was happening to her.

The last time I had seen my grandmother was my seventh birthday; I remember celebrating my birthday over at my grandparents’ house. My mother and grandfather told me that Brit could not cook and that I could only see her in the master bedroom. Walking into the master bedroom, I remember how awful it smelled and how something felt different. I took one look at Brit and she looked so sick, she could barely speak to me that night; she was hooked to a device that went over her mouth that now thinking about it, was giving her oxygen to breathe. She had given me a ton of her teddy bears and keepsakes for my birthday. “Why are you giving me all of your stuff?” I asked her while she gave me her gifts. “Kaylin, I want you to remember me no matter,” she had replied weakly. I completely disregarded any of the clues that I could have used to put together the fact that she was sick with lung cancer and her life was ending.

Late on Christmas Eve, my grandfather had left a voicemail for my mom and me that Brit had passed away. I remember how miserable I felt that night going to sleep; I was crying the whole night with one of Brit’s teddy bears in my arms and wishing that she did not die. Christmas is not a time to cry and mourn the loss of a loved one, it was a time to cherish with them. For weeks, I would feel sad every now and then when I thought about Brit and how I could not see her anymore. My mom told me eventually that even though she was gone, that she would always be with me in my heart and that I should celebrate her life, not that she was dead. I knew that when my mom gave me a piece of advice that I should let go of Brit, it was my time to move on and enjoy the rest of my life, not to be miserable and cry over someone.

To this day, I still visit my grandparents’ house ever few years since my grandfather has not really been in contact with us since Brit died. When I went over to their house in May, I remember that the house did not feel like the warm, cozy place that was so familiar when growing up as a child. The thing I remember the most being there was that Brit’s old decorations and plants were still there which made me smile a bit because it made me feel like she was still alive and with us. I still remember her every once in a blue moon which makes me a little melancholic every now and then. One thing I know is though that Brit will always be a special person to me who taught me how to cope with the loss of someone.