Lying there in the open bed, she looked nothing different, just as beautiful. Her heart began to fade, and she slowly left. Does anyone really understand death? We grow so close to everyone around us, and at some point in time we have to let the people we love go. Does any of this really make any complete sense? Losing my grandma was one of the hardest experiences I ever had to go through.

My grandma, my mom’s mom, was my best friend, and she never seemed to leave my side. I never really thought that she could just one day, out of the blue, be gone. Yes, she always had the occasional health problems, but she was a fighter. With just one phone call, my life changed. One spring day while I was at school, my mom called the school. Patti, the school secretary, called me to the office. I immediately knew something was wrong; the secretary’s scared face told me. Patty said, “Your grandma had a stroke. Your mom is going to come and pick you up.” I didn’t want to cry because I had to go get my homework. When I sat in my mom’s car, I sobbed. Of course, at the time, I didn’t really know the circumstances. I remember thinking, ‘She will be fine. She’s a fighter.’ Tears streamed down my face like the raindrops on a car window when it’s pouring. With my lips trembling, I thought to myself ‘I can’t cry. I need to stay strong.’ None of this set in until I saw her lying there in the white room with no expression.

A couple hours after her stroke, my grandma was moved to Hospice. Silence filled the room where we all pondered our thoughts. This place is meant to help us bring closure, but it just made us more emotional. ‘What do we do? Just sit here and watch her die right in front of us?’ Well, that’s what we did. I thought to myself, ‘I hope there’s a miracle, and she pulls through.’ I sat there just watching her breathe, her complexion so pale, and her hands as cold as ice sickles. I lay my head on her chest because her heartbeat soothed me. Family surrounded her bed in the tiny room, and we kept each other occupied. Even though she couldn’t speak or look at us, we still enjoyed the time we had left with her. ‘She would want us to be happy, right? So why not try to keep what we felt in and just do what she would want?’
While hooked up to the breathing machine with her eyes closed, I watched her lay there unconscious every day. She stayed in Hospice for four days before she died. I was supposed to spend the night with her that Saturday night, but she died that Saturday afternoon. The glue to our whole family no longer existed, and after she left, lives changed. Our family still manages to get together, but it’s not the same as before.

None of it really set in. It seemed more like a bad dream that I wanted to wake up from but couldn’t. I remember being so angry with her. I wasn’t necessarily mad at her, but I was mad that she left me. She had been there my whole life and from then on I didn’t really know how to feel. Upset? Angry? The whole situation made me question life. ‘Why’d she have to leave? Everyone has a time, true, but what was the reason?’ The sleepless nights ran longer and longer. My chance of getting any sleep without having some bad dream about her being there was slim. It always seemed like she was trying to send me some sort of message, but I didn’t know for sure. Maybe they weren’t really bad dreams. The dreams were so vivid, and I can remember them easily as if they were real. I hope it’s just my grandma trying to stay connected to me. I sure miss her.