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Grandma
“I tired calling you didn't pick up.” I heard my brother's panting frantic voice. He had ran up the hill, from the hostile, where he had been keeping my grandma company. Now he was standing in front of my door, talking to my father. It was late, probably about 12. I heard my dad franticly pull his shoes on and grab his keys, before hurrying out the door. I pulled my covers over my head and fell quickly back to sleep. Sleep was the answer. Sleep would fix this. I would wakeup and this would have just been nightmare. Its not real I told my self. It's a dream.
The next time I woke up my dad was on the edge of my bed. Petting my hair. He looked sad, but didn't cry. I mumbled out “I already know.” But don't think that he heard me. I just lay there for awhile with my dad. My father is a strong man, not very good at expressing his feelings. He is a man of very few emotions. I had only every seen my dad happy, angry, and frustrated. But I have never seen him sad. He continued to comfort me, which I think was more to comfort himself. As I drifted back to sleep my dad said “Its okay, sweetie, go back to bed.”
The third I woke up it was to my brother voice again “It was painless, she didn't feel anything.” I heard the sounds of someone crying, it belonged to my mom. This time I crawled out of my bed and shuffled down the hall way, into the living room. Where my mom was sitting on the couch, she was it tears. With my brother next to her. I sat next to mother, pulling my knees to my chest. My mom placed her arm around me. It was silent for a few seconds, until my mom spoke the words I had been dreading, “grandma died”. Even though I already knew, I thought when I heard it out loud it would become real. My nightmare would have become a reality, and I would feel the pain you are told you feel when you lose someone so close to you. I was sure that when I heard it I would burst out in to tears. But I didn't I just sat there, emotionless. I didn't move a muscle, or make a sound. All I could think about was think “What's wrong with me. Why am I not upset. I feel nothing.” I was like the Tin man from the Wizard of Oz, I wanted a heart. I wanted to feel what it would feel like to lose someone who was so close to me. I imaged the terrible heart aching pain that I should have been feeling. But my heart was missing and in its spot was a black empty pit. I got up and said “I'm going back to bed.” And walked to my room. Where I laid back into bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, instantly.
I didn't want the last memory of my grandma to be of her telling me not to smile at her and yelling for my grandpa, her pain medication made her paranoid and not all there in the head. I want to remember my grandma her for the loving grandma, who reused Christmas cards each year, left the t.v. on for my cat when she toke care of her, insisting that my cat loved it, and who I use to help make salad with from my grandpas garden. I wasn't ready to lose that, I wasn't ready to lose my grandma. It wasn't till about a week later, at my grandmas funeral that a cried. That I felt that terrible heart aching pain. I was in denial and it wasn't in tell then that it all became real. I had gotten my heart back, and the pain of losing a part of me had set it.
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