Every day, starting about four years ago, till now, I’ve discovered anything you think can’t be possible can actually become a reality and make you feel regretful for the rest of your life, well in my point of view, that regret had been burned in my brain, and sadly going to prolong in my mind, forever. At the age I was, I didn’t know the importance of spending every minute with the people you love, but after the major event that had changed my life for a very long time, showed me that anything is possible, especially the death of people you love, even if they’re the healthiest and brightest person there is out there. I’ve always thought that my Nana was the most extraordinary, loving, and intelligent woman alive. I had always imagined what she’d look like when she was younger, but it seemed as though my mother wouldn’t want to show me her beautiful face. The happiest 9 years of my life were spending time with my Nana.
One beautiful day, at my elementary school, was the best day ever. I was building the tallest building out of my saliva-like Popsicle sticks.
“Ring! Ring!” was the sound of the telephone at the teachers desk. A slight twitch had made its way throughout my whole body.
“Nikki, sweetie, your father is on the phone.” Mrs. Hanson had said nonchalantly. The tone in her voice had let out a few butterflies at the deep, sorrowful bottom of my stomach. As my hand touched the phone, the sound of his low pitched voice, had made me realize that something was wrong. It was my Nana.
Thanks to the dying of my grandma, I broke my wrist. I noticed already before my dad had to tell me that there was something wrong with her. I didn’t want to assume already, because it would just ruin everything. I asked my dad as he arrived at my school, “What’s wrong?” as I saw his desperate red blood shot eyes, let a single tear drop run down his right sorrowful cheek.
“Nana’s not going to make it. The surgery in her warm heart just wasn’t enough to keep her body in place.”
As I saw my sister just burst out crying, her pain seemed as though, contagious, because the pain struck right into my heart, enough to make me cry like I’ve never have. Now, the regret is always eating into my lungs, making me feel remorseful. The words I wish that would’ve came out of my parched mouth were, “I love you.” But it never seemed to happen.