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Live Your Life

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Beep,Beep,Beep. That’s all I could hear. The room was dead quiet. All I could hear was the water dripping on the floor and my Grandma breathing. Breathing slowly. MY face was in a shock. All those wires and bags around my Grandma. People sleeping on the couches and chairs. The couches and chairs I used to find boxes full of chocolate. My Grandma Lucy always would hide multiple boxes full of chocolate. I would eat like at least a full row of a box. My Grandma knew , she’d always catch me. I looked over to my left. There stood my Grandma’s old fashion oregon. The stool still in its place, but with people sitting on it. That oregon, I learned how to play songs on. I taught myself to play “When the Saints Go Marching In”. I only remember how to play the very beginning of that song. Whenever I hear that song played or I play it on a piano, it reminds me of sitting right there on that stool playing it. My Grandma always singing to it.

Standing by her bed-side, holding her hand, I stood there staring at her. “Why? What’s going on?” I stand there in a confused daze. “Grandma, I love you. I’m going to miss you so much. Don’t leave, don’t leave!” I bawl my eyes out. My mom and dad come over to me, and comfort me. I’m bawling my eyes out still. Grandma Lucy can’t speak, but I see her smile. Smiling back at me. I feel her squeezing my hand. I squeeze back. “I love you Grandma.”

Its been a couple of days now, since I first saw my Grandma dying. Its still a shock, seeing her lying there in that hospital like bed. All those wires around her. The fresh scent of all the flowers by her bed side. You know what this living room could actually pass for a hospital room. I smell food. The kitchen’s just around the corner. Smells of fresh baked cookies, bread and soup start to feel the room. My stomach starts to growl. “You better go get something to eat”, my mom tells me. I stare at my dying Grandma. “Huh? O, mmhmm! I will.” I walkt to the kitchen. I hear laughter. There’s my aunt and uncles all standing around. Telling jokes. Uncle Dave has this black square machine type thingie. I stare at it wondering what the heck it is. All of a sudden I hear this loud fart. “Oh my!” “What the heck? Whose in Heaven’s name did that?”, asks my aunt Darlene. All my uncles start laughing. “O,oo it’s this farting machine. You see this button here on this remote if you click, the black machine fakes a farting noise.” “Haha, that’s pretty silly,” my Aunt Darlene replys. They keep playing with it. Everyone chuckles. At least it break the sadness in the room. I go back to the living room and sit on the couch. All of a sudden I hear a loud fart. Everyone starts to laugh. “Ooo,mom.” “Grandma.” My Grandma Lucy smiles and looks up at all of us. Everyone in the living room looks back at her and smiles back.

A few days later March 14,2005 my mom received a phone call from my aunt Darlene. I came home from school opened the door to my house and I could feel the sadness fill the room. I heard sniffles. “Mom? Mom? Dad? Dad? You guys here?” “Were in here,” my mom yelled. As I walked from the kitchen to the living room, my heart began to race faster. It felt like going through a haunted house and having that adreline rush. I entered the living room and I saw the sad faces on my parents. Ooo no, I thought. No,no way. My parents always have this look on their faces and the room always has this sad vibe to it, when someone has passed. “Care, I’m so sorry to tell you, but Grandma Lucy passed on this morning. I ran to my room and started bawling my eyes out. My pillow soaked up my tears, like a sponge asborbs water. My parents come in and comfort me. “Aunt Darlene said that right before Grandma passed, the angel above her bed light-up and played music. That’s when she went over and checked her and she had passed.

A week later was her funeral. That week was tough. Tougher then over-cooked steak. I never have cried so much in my life before. Her funeral was very sad. I don’t remember of it. Just that it was pouring that day, but when we buried her, the sun was shining bright and there was no rain at all. The only part of her funeral that I’ll never forget is when I walked up that church aile, look in her beautiful coffin and saw my 92 year old Grandma who looked so young lying there, smiling. Smiling away, laying dead still in her pink sweat-outfit that we got her for christmas last year. I stood there smiling back, tears rolling down my cheek. I looked one more time at her and I swear I saw her wink at me. Ever since my Grandma Lucy has passed. I try to live life each day to the fullest.





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