It was a very hot day in Mexico. I woke up at 8:00 in the morning. I was looking for my mom. I yelled out, “Mom, Mom.” She wasn’t near or in my house. I wondered were she was so I went to go look for her. Suddenly, I saw my sister crying like a puppy with a broken leg. I asked her what was wrong. She waited for a moment and said

“Grandma passed away in the morning.”

In that moment I felt like my heart broke into millions of pieces.


I changed so fast so that we could get to grandma’s house quickly. We rushed like horses running away from the Indians. Once we got there, there were a lot of people. There were so many that I lost count. It was packed like a concert that was sold out. While I was getting through the crowd of people I saw my grandpa. He was talking to my sister. He looked so hurt that it seemed like bricks were hitting his head. I felt bad because she was my grandpa’s wife. I just couldn’t take it any more so I started crying for like an hour like Sponge Bob. I got over it; I saw my grandpa coming up to me. We started talking to each other. I was telling him about those times when my grandma let the dogs loose on me. Good times we had together.


The next day was Christmas. We had a ceremony for my grandma. It took a chunk of time but it was worth it. After the ceremony, we had to take my grandma to the cemetery to bury her. It was hard for me to see her get buried. It looked like the dirt was dragging her body in a casket all the way down the deep narrow hole. I went to my mom crying as quickly as possible. She told me that everything was going to be alright. There was no cure for what I was feeling at that time.


I realized and learned that my grandma’s death was a part of life. I also wondered why our loved ones have to go. I just believe that it is a cruel thing that we have to die. Every time I think about my grandma I get flashbacks, to my time and memories with my grandma. We don’t know the time that death will come. Only God knows when the time is right.