Waking up from another sleepless night, just great! But this time it was different. It might not make sense but, this didn’t feel like just any sleepless night. Something was definitely wrong. I couldn’t only stay asleep, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. As if I couldn’t get enough oxygen or any at all. I found myself constantly gasping for air every few seconds as I tossed and turned in bed. My chest felt tight and heavy, a combination or getting the wind knocked out of me and my heart falling through my ***. Anyways, that night it felt like breathing right was just not even remotely close to being on my To Do list. Sunday all day I felt very… emotional. Like every other 15 year old female, I felt like crying for everything, for no exact reason.
Today wasn’t one of my best, I wanted to curl up into a ball, shove my not so small self into the smallest corner of the world’s darkest room… a room so dark, what I think would be one of my darkest of thoughts would simply be the only light in such a place. And a place as far away and so far out of this world, the only life there would be is…well there wouldn’t be any. Well after I somehow managed to pull myself together, after being mobbed by what seemed to be an unnecessary, endless train of emotions, I walk through the disgusting olive, greenish colored door of our apartment. Making my way to my room, leaving everything in my possession in the door way and not giving two ***** who trips on it, I sat on my bed. I then realize my mom was home. At that time of day it’s usually just my siblings and I, and sometimes my dad. But for my mom to be home before 3 p.m. is unheard of unless someone is dying. Well come to find out she came back home shortly after arriving at work this morning. At this point she had us all gathered in the living room, with my dad sitting at her side, on the furthest part of the sectional and us children on the other, curiously watching her struggle to find the words to come next. Me, being the oldest, I automatically think of all things possible I could have done that may have upset them… but thought twice when I remembered I had an audience sitting next to me. So I couldn’t possibly be elbows deep, this time. I sat patiently next to my brother as my mom broke news that my grandfather had passed in his sleep early this morning… those next few moments of silent sobbing seemed to be an eternity. As if I had lived 1,000 long years and it was my time to roll over. I, being the stubborn type, my instincts kick in… I ran out the front door leaving my family behind in their sorrows. I sat outside in the plush green grass, thinking, for that’s all time would give me... thought. I couldn’t believe it, I didn’t want to believe it, and I wanted it to be some sick twisted prank. I think at that moment I felt as if I would feel relived if someone had only came around the corner saying “Gotchya!” He wasn’t supposed to go… not yet, he was a fighter… it was supposed to be a fight ‘till the death, just not his… I believed in him I thou- no, I prayed he would make it, once again I was wrong.
You know how people say they don’t have any regrets what so ever? Well I call *******. There is always that one, just like there is always that one sibling; they know how to just irk the **** out of you, or that one friend that is just a buzz **** to everything like… well, life. Yeah well I have that one, that one regret that I, in reality can’t do jack squat about. The last time my family and I went down to visit my grandfather in Cali, we were leaving that day, and he had an appointment to see if he was eligible to do chemo, and as I think about it… you’d think they wanted to save a life right? Anyways, my mom had yelled at me to wake up to go say goodbye to him before he left… I was being a bit selfish and only thought of me being tired and didn’t want to get out of bed, simply because I chose to stay up all hours of the night before to play Call of Duty with my uncle. When I got up, everyone was crying in the bathroom. My mom was ****** so was my Tia… that was the last time they got to see him, and I didn’t. All because I didn’t get my lazy *** up… I didn’t get to say goodbye and now, now it’s too late… and every day I hate myself for it. But then I think to myself, at least I know, deep down, he is at rest, happy, care free…just chillin in paradise.
You know, life is a ***** and it *****, but we all got to live it, right? Many times I don’t want to anymore. I never was a regretful person especially when it came down to paying the consequences. I thank myself every day for putting myself through everything I’ve been through throughout my short 17 years of life, for if I hadn’t had the experience I’d probably be just another sheep talking out of my *** about do’s and don’ts. But there is not a single day that goes by without remembering his soul. Remembering there is a place I once sat and enjoyed the cold wet grass, felt the warm golden rays of the sun. The fresh mist in the air from a nearby waterfall, silent yet graceful drops of water. My senses tampered with the sweet aroma of fresh cut grass and fully bloomed flowers as they lay next to wet engraved concrete. As I sat there in silence letting time go by, memories became so clear. Remembering what was said, or the voice in which I heard it, brought me peace and clarity. The passion of a fighter’s heart that only yearned to keep on fighting, taught me strength. The hopes and dreams for a brighter future seemed to be my focus. As I sat and embraced my day’s journeys of memoirs brought me to say farewell to my fighter. As I leaned forward to give a tender kiss, the taste on my lips from the dirt on the stone is a bitter sweet goodbye. I sit now and think, I must and will not ever forget that place, where I’d rather be, where I’d go and memories of my grandfather became my reality. This is my one person I’d most want to see now… and forever.
