The loss of Elder.14 Sep, 2015 06:26 AM
I was sitting in my room after a day of normal school, and everything was fine, everything was normal. I heard my mother call me to her and I went to her as she stood in the hallway. She looked obviously upset, but I asked no questions so she could speak. "Grandma is in the Hospital." After that, she broke down covering me in her warm hugs.
I was shocked, but I cried just for the sake of it. I felt at any time I could stop cry. I felt as if I wasn't told of what I heard. It didn't make sense, but days later we went to the Hospital, and went towards the ICU ward.
We put on these yellow outfits and went in. There laid my Grandmother and my Grandfather sat beside her in a chair. I still felt nothing, but gave off a grim vibe. I, and my mother, soon found out she had some leg cancer. Day passed and she died, and there was no funeral for her either.
That broke me, because I finally realize the person I knew dearly was gone. My Grandmother I knew at the age of three, and then my mother and her fought constantly. My mother found a man my Grandmother didn't like at all. So, my mother and I left. I hated it and I remember hating it. I didn't see her until I was 11, which was 7 year later after we left. It was the day I saw her in the Hospital.
I always knew her deep inside, but now I can't remember anything from the past. These days I regret not asking my mother to see her. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I wish they never fought, just because of me. I wish...I wish.
I was cruising Facebook and sought out nothing particulate. Yet, I felt broke after seeing a post of something close to these words "'Dear Grandma Peggy died today." I felt confused, because I held no Info. of my Great-Grandmother dying or even going to the hospital. So, I got up and went to ask my mother about it.
"Yeah, she died." She sounded so plain, and she obviously wasn't hurt, because Peggy was part of her family. It was part of my Father's who she had nothing to do with. "Oh." I replied and went back into my room. I cried silently so my mother wouldn't hear.
I went to be dropped off to be with my Father, but my Step-mother and Step-brother picked me up. Without even telling them, they knew I knew about it. "How do you feel?" They'd ask and I'd have no answer "Fine." I'd reply, and keep with my day.
They wanted to keep it a surprise, and surprise me about her death when I got there. It obviously didn't work about, and I was broken that they didn't tell me. Neither even getting the chance to see her, because she was dear to me. I saw here every time I went to my Father's house. I lived next to her when I was little. I went to see her friends with her when I was small. I used to stay at her house when I got the chance. I love her, even though she died.
When we got to the church, I cried when I hugged my Father. I felt the pain all roll out and cried. I wasn't ready for her to die and never would be. But it happened anyway. So, to this day the memory comes back, the many memories of her, and I cry my eyes out.