Four summers ago was one of the most, if not the most stressful times for me. “What is happening?”, “Where are my parents at?”, “Is e5verything okay?” These were common questions that I had all of the time. Sometimes the answers really just depended on the day or even the hour and although every now and again I had an idea, I was always left wondering what might be happening. My grandma was extremely sick; usually the sicknesses just seemed to come and go as it pleased but this time was different and I could tell. Usually when she was sick it was concerning but never too concerning [run-on sentence] but around the summertime she was really sick. All I remember hearing about is what I call deadly dialysis and kidney problems. During this time I was never really around her but instead my parents were always gone somewhere with her. I never knew what was going on or what problems were occurring [run-on sentence] but I was able to tell most things about the situation based on my parents and their facial expressions. Anytime they would come home and every now and then their faces would be drained and almost ghost like. They wore their emotions heavily on their sleeve and couldn't hide them as much as they probably wanted to. When they would come home they would calmly try and  tell my brothers and I to pray about the situation and try and keep thinking positive thoughts. 

I thought of everything except positive thoughts.

Being non-optimistic and thinking the worst about the situation is something that I still don’t understand why I did; [capitalization error] It’s almost like someone told me what was going to happen before this all happened. There would be times when my parents would sit down with my brothers and I and talk to us about what’s going and what could possibly happen soon. 

I would just sit there quiet as a mouse. 

I don’t even think I would even move either. My parents could’ve had a better response from a brick wall [incorrect word here] then from me. Nothing about sitting there was interesting or in my mind even worth listening to. It was all malarkey to me. There was nothing that could be said that would make me think any different. The more I heard about the situation, the less I believed what they were saying. It makes me sad and regretful the way I thought about it and I wish I didn’t do that but I can’t change how I felt. 

One day, any ordinary day for me, we had another house meeting in my living room. Knowing how these usually happened in the past, I just thought it was going to be as boring as all of the other times we’ve done these. 

It definitely was not the same as all the others.

During this sit down, I read my parents’ faces and it was the same ghost-like expression that they always have when something is wrong. Everything was the same except the words I was hearing. There was no more praying for success or trying to see the positive outcome; [capitalization error] It turned into pray that she is better and is now peaceful.

My grandma had passed away that day.

No one other than my parents said anything the whole time while receiving this information. You could’ve heard the smallest pin drop when the conversation was over. Even though I was speechless like every other time, this time was different. I wasn’t quiet because I didn’t feel like saying anything, I was quiet because I didn’t know what else to do. Everyone had a different look on their faces . My parents’ faces were drained looking as if they had been crying for a while which wasn’t shocking. My brothers had looks of being distraught, confused, and just heart broken. Then there was me.

Sitting.

Not moving.

My mind was racing not knowing what to think or how to feel but I sat not moving at all. Why was I doing this? What was wrong with me? I didn’t understand why I didn’t react. After I reflected deeply on these questions, I finally realized that sitting there was all I knew how to do at the time. I had never dealt with information that hard-hitting; freezing just seemed like the best option. 

I didn’t want to believe the mind-boggling news but I knew it was true. I also think a part of my reaction being ridiculously dull is because I always thought about the day it would come and prepared myself for it. I had months to prepare which isn’t that long but was long enough. I think it’s sad how I had to prepare in advance but I do think it overall helped me deal with the unfortunate tragedy.

Once the funeral came around is when things started to get [spelling error] een more real. The funeral was in the morning and I remember waking up and quickly getting dressed as the rest of my family did as well. Once we were ready, we left the house and was on our journey to Maranatha church, the church that was grandma used to attend. The car ride was almost terrifying because of not knowing what to expect when arriving. I hadn’t been to Maranatha in a while so not only did I not know what to expect, I was trying to remember what everything looked like. 

We get there and there were a plethora of cars in the parking lot already. Before we even went inside, my family was stopped a few times to talk and catch up with family and friends in the parking lot. Once we finally made our way inside, there were a lot of people and barely any open gaps in the room.

Surprisingly I knew a lot of people there; [capitalization error] A lot of people knew me also. Whether it was already weeping people from her church or family that was there, we had to talk to a lot of people who knew us before the funeral started. 

When the funeral was about to start, we made our way slowly into the sanctuary and we sat right in the middle of the room towards the front. When going in, I noticed two big screens that were showing pictures of my grandma and people with her. Though it was sad looking, I didn’t think too much of it because I figured there wouldn’t be any super meaningful pictures that would be shown. I also had noticed that there was no casket in the room which meant that my grandma was not there. At the time I was very confused as to the way she wasn’t there and it bugged me that I didn’t get to see her for a final time. Even though I knew if I would’ve seen my grandma in a casket, I probably would’ve cried like a newborn baby but I was still upset about her not being there. I thought about that for a while only to later find out that she wasn’t there in a casket because instead of being buried, my grandma was cremated, which I was very distraught about. Though I really wanted to know where she was, I didn’t ask anyone for whatever reason; I just kept looking around the room. 

While I was thinking about all of the things I noticed, I focused all my attention on the two screens going through all of the pictures. I looked at the pictures mostly for my grandma and didn’t really care who else was in the pictures. All was going well up until a picture of my grandma and I popped up on the screens. My long-lasting hopes to not cry was over.

I lost it.

There was no more holding back at that point and I couldn't do anything except burst into tears. I could have cried enough to fill a small pool. Once I started, trying to stop was almost impossible. I remember my mom sitting there holding me, crying right with me. I couldn’t believe that a picture could make me cry so hard but that picture did. I couldn’t really breathe either. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest how fast it was moving. In that moment, I felt like my body was in control of me and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to be handed tissues because my nose was a running mess and my face was drenched with tears. Though the intense crying stopped after a few minutes, I continued to cry for most of the funeral. Even though I didn’t want to cry, I think being able to let out all of the sad emotions I suppressed was very beneficial and was something I needed to do.

After the service in the sanctuary, there was good-smelling food being served in the church's cafeteria. All of the tables looked identical with clean white tops and shiny brown chairs. The only tables that were different were the ones farthest back of the cafeteria which were saved for sons and daughters of my grandma and their kids if they had any. Since my dad was my grandma’s son, my family was seated at one of the reserved tables. 

I don’t remember what we ate; I didn’t even care to eat at the time anyways.

All I remember is people coming up to my family to talk about my grandma and how we were doing. Since she was my grandma and that was my dad’s mom, people clearly must’ve thought that it was harder for us to deal with my grandma's death; they definitely were correct about it too. After so long we finally ended up wrapping up our final conversations with people and left. 

After the death of my grandma, things were harder for many reasons. My aunt still lived with my grandma at the time and after she died, going over to the house was challenging. I learned that my grandma was cremated from when I went into the house and noticed a big orange-colored urn on a table. Another problem was just adjusting my life without my grandma being in it. Before she died and was well, I used to go over frequently and we used to do things like watch movies, cook, or even just sit on the porch and talk. It was always very peaceful when I would go over there and I was never bummed to be going there. I went from going frequently to barely at all after my grandma died. Of course my aunt still lived at the house but I didn’t really see a point in going over there anymore. The only times I would go over was if my aunt needed help with things and I thought I could help. 

The final moments of being in that house was around two years ago when my aunt needed help with packing and cleaning; she was moving out. This process took a few days and wasn’t physically challenging but emotionally challenging for sure. Cleaning out my grandma’s room was definitely the hardest part because everything was still there as if she was still alive. At the end of the cleaning, my aunt moved and I haven’t been back to or even seen the once beautiful house since then.

Although this terrible event really took a toll on my life and affected me greatly, [capitalization error] It made me very aware of how amazing it is to be alive and also taught me to appreciate the people closest to you.