Friday, April 22, 2011

Grandpa's Death

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Reflective Essay

My Grandpa’s death has been the hardest thing that I have had to deal with so far in my young life. It was a terrible experience filled with hurt and confusion but I feel that I have gained some wisdom from this tragedy as well.

I was rushing out the door, because I was late for work, when the phone rang. I answered out of breath, and kind of angrily “Hello”

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It was my Grandpa; he called to chat with my family and me. He called everyday while my Grandma was at work, because he would get lonely.

He said “Hey Punky, what are you up to?”

I smiled a little and replied “I’m sorry, I cannot talk Grandpa, I have to go, otherwise I will be late for work”

He answered back, with a little disappointment in his voice “alright, try not to work too hard”, and I hung up the phone.

On my way to work I realized that my grandparents were leaving the next day to go to Ohio to visit my aunt. I felt kind of bad and a little sad because I did not speak with him and I would not be able to talk to him again for another two weeks. When I arrived at work, everything was busy. After all, I work at Dairy Queen, it was a blazing, hot summer day, and it seemed like everyone in the whole city wanted ice cream at that moment. I forgot about the phone call and went about my business. After work, I went home and relaxed. I took a shower and went on the internet. Finally I went to bed around 00 am. I was exhausted so as soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell fast asleep.

The loud ringing of the phone startled me out of a deep sleep. It was really dark in my room and I felt like I had been asleep for an eternity, but in reality I had only slept for an hour. I remember looking at the clock and it reading 5.The phone stopped ringing and I began to fall back asleep when I heard the door to my bedroom fling open and my mom, in a voice full of panic, yelled up to me

“Melissa, can you please get up, Grandpa just died”, I yelled back “What?” and she replied in a desperate voice “please, get up”

My heart stopped that moment, I could not breathe. Somehow I got up and stumbled through the dark, managed to put some clothes on, and I ran downstairs. My mom, my siblings and I all got into the car.

My grandparents lived in Merrill Iowa, about 1 miles north of Sioux City. On the drive, I could see my mother’s hands shaking on the steering wheel. Her face was pale and an eerie gray color. I had never seen her like that and it scared me. My brother and sister were sobbing in the back. But they were cries I had never heard before; sickening, like they couldn’t breathe. It scared me, but I could not cry so I just sat there,

looking straight ahead, doubting the reality of it all. “It can’t be true” I said to myself,

“My grandpa is too young, too full of life to die”.

We finally arrived at their house, after what seemed like hours and hours of driving. The thoughts in my mind were scattered and unorganized; I couldn’t maintain a single thought.

We pulled into my grandparents’ driveway and I looked toward to the front of the house. The flashing amber lights from the ambulance and the police car hurt my eyes, and they seemed so far away. I remember thinking “Why are there so many people here?” We started up the sidewalk to the front of the house, everything was so quiet. I looked up at the front door, but I couldn’t make myself go in, so I just ran.

I ran away, thinking that if I went fast enough, maybe it would all go away. That’s when I let the tears go. I couldn’t see anything, the whole world was blurry from the tears, but still I ran.

I was running as fast as I could, and then I remember falling. I didn’t feel anything but the warm, gritty cement sidewalk against my face. I just laid there and sobbed. I yelled at the still humid air, screaming at the night, like it could help me. I was mad at first and then my anger turned into deep sadness.

Some time later, I heard my uncle calling my name so I walked back to my grandparents’ house. By then, they had already taken my Grandpa away. I couldn’t look at any of my relatives. It was too painful, especially seeing my Grandma so sad.

It was 500 in the morning when the pastor of my grandparents’ church came to the house to pray with everyone. I remember it thundering outside, the lightening flashed and the rain poured down. As if the storm was imitating the emotions my family was going through.

The next day was the family’s visitation with my grandpa’s body. I couldn’t go near the body; it made it too real then, to actually see him dead. The next few days I couldn’t function at all. I hardly slept and when I was awake all I could do was cry. The funeral was the hardest thing I had to go through. It was the last goodbye, the last time I could actually physically be with my Grandpa.

Consequently, after his death I felt guilty for not talking to my grandpa when he called that day. I took the fact that he called just about every day for granted. I realize now that taking a little time out of my day to spend time with the people, whom I care about, can make a world of difference. I regret not talking to my grandpa that day; I just assumed that he would call back the next day.

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