I had loved her all my life. Even though she was rigid, I loved her. I told her that every chance I got.

One day, she said it back to me. I hugged her immediately. She called me her Kelcie.

A few years later her health started fading. But she would always get back up on her feet again. This time was different.

As we drove to the hospital for the third time in three days, my mom said to me, "This is the last time we will spend with great grandma."

"I know."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No. I just need silence right now." I said as the tears started to fall.

As we were driving to the hospital, I thought about a lot of things. The main thing that I thought about was that we weren't going to make in time. I wasn't going to get the chance to say goodbye.

When we got into the hospital, we went to the room where grandma had been the last two days. Nobody was there. My heart immediately dropped. I never got to say goodbye.

A nurse came over and said "We moved her down the hall to room 206." I felt better for a couple seconds.

When we got to the room, I saw my grandma, uncle and dad all crying. I looked over at grandma in bed. She was still breathing.

For the next nine hours we sat in the room. We cried and we laughed, but we mostly cried.

At around eight, a nurse came in said that she didn't have much longer. Everyone took their turn saying they loved her and that they would miss her.

At about eight forty-five, a nurse came in again and took grandma's oxygen mask off. We all huddled around the bed and waiting for what was about to come.

We cried as she started taking less and less breathes. Then, finally, she breathed her last breath on Earth and went to Jesus.