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Don't Cry For Me
Sitting in the hospital is always sad. I look onto the bed and see my grandma lying there. Grandpa had gone to get something to eat, so it was just me, my brother, and my sister. I sat in the corner of the room, trying to ignore the pain in my pregnant belly.
Grandma’s hand searches the bed, and I quickly grab it. She seems to relax when she feels my touch. She looks at me, and a tear slides down my face. I feel my brother and sister put their hands on my shoulder. My brother moves to the other side of the room to grab Grandma’s other hand.
With some effort, Grandma wipes the tear from my face. “Don’t cry for me. I’ll see you all some day.” Grandpa walks into the room just as she starts to talk. He drops to his knees beside her bed. She keeps talking. “Whether it be in Heaven or in Hell, I will see you all someday.”
The nurse comes in to give Grandma some pain medicine. She pats my tummy and says, “Take care of that baby.” She looks over to Grandpa and he gives her one last kiss. She looks to my brother and says, “Keep being the good boy you have always been.” She turns her head to look at my sister, whom is behind me. “My beautiful grandbaby. Never forget this: Everything happens for a reason.”
I could feel her fragile hands grip my hand tighter as another round of pain shot through her little body. A bead of sweat came out on her forehead. Her normally curly white hair lay flat on her hair. She looked up at me with eyes that were recognizable. Because I have her eyes. I could very clearly see pain, but there was no fear in her green eyes.
She looked up to the ceiling and whispered, “I can see him. I can see God. He’s surrounded by angels. They’ve come to get me.” Tears streamed down my face as she spoke, and I couldn’t stop them. “I’m not afraid. This was only my temporary home. I was going to have to leave someday. Don’t cry for me. I will see you all some day.”
She closed her eyes. Her chest stopped moving up and down. The heart monitor made a beeping sound, indicating that there was no heartbeat. Despite her pleas, tears streamed down my face with unstoppable force. Her hand turned ice cold in mine. Her grip had loosened. I didn’t want to let go, but I had to. She was gone. The thought took my breathe away. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew it was true.
The funeral was held that Sunday. I had cried so much the past few days that I couldn’t cry anymore. But once I saw Grandma in the casket, the tears came back. Grandpa was sitting on the couch, my brother next to him. I went to sit on the other side of him. He puts his arm around my shoulders and I feel him shaking with grief.
The baby was born two days after the funeral. She is a healthy 7 pound 8 ounce baby girl. There was no hesitation in naming her.
“What’s the baby’s name?” asked the nurse that was taking care of me.
“Maria,” I said without hesitation. My grandma’s name was Maria. It’s amazing how one life can end, and another one can begin.